


CoSL 9: Homesick

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [9]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Break Sloane, But not the lesbians, Case Fic, F/F, F/M, Grimm history, Minor original character deaths, ants and grasshopper, original lesbian characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 07:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: PART 9 OF THE CASEBOOK OF SLOANE LARSON!Sloane decides it would be good to go back to the house she grew up in to retrieve some additional books and other resources--and Nick has managed to tag along. But you can never really go home again, can you? Something is up in her quaint old home town, as it's being developed as a high priced get away and pushing the residents out. And Nick is surprised to find out more and more about Sloane as a child--with the help of her "aunts".





	CoSL 9: Homesick

**_“I will feel no guilt on shutting my door to those who didn't listen.”_ **

**\-----------**

**Homesick  
**

**\--------------**

  
A couple of days after Christmas, Sloane arrived early to her shift and knocked at the door frame of Renard’s office—still occupied by Captain Harden. The captain waved her in. Harden was older than Renard, with silvering hair and more lines around his face. He’d been a detective for years before being promoted after being injured, so he struck many as being all business. He intimidated some, but of course, Sloane wasn’t easily intimidated.  “Larson. Everything alright?”

“No problems, sir, just a request.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping to get a few days off. I’d like to go visit family out of state.”

“Oh? Didn’t want to do it before Christmas?”

“I’m Jewish,” she said, trying not to get annoyed at having to say that so much lately. “Or was. But also we had that kidnapping case, I didn’t want to leave until I knew we’d done all we could.”

“Yes, still an odd one that…I mean its best we got all those kids back safely, but they talk like a monster kidnapped them. And it’s… unusual to say the least, kidnap almost twelve children in rapid succession, hang them in baskets, and then just…disappear. That still baffles me...”

“Very strange sir,” she agreed. He didn’t know they knew who did all of it, but he didn’t need to know. The wesen council will keep track of that. “But despite our best efforts we’ve not found a probable culprit and as you say, the kids have been able to return home safely. The case is on the backburner until we have a lead and I’d like to get this done and be back in time for the next case.”

“Nose to the grindstone, I can respect that,” he said, nodding in approval. “Let me take a look at your file.” He turned to the computer and typed a bit. “Looks like…you’ve been here eight months and haven’t taken more than a couple of days of voluntary time off. Mostly the recommended days after a rough case…which you do seem to find often.”

Sloane gave a tight lipped smile. “Luck of the draw, sir. At least I’m never bored.”

He gave a knowing smile. “How many were you looking for?”

“Um…how many could I take?” she asked uncertainly.

“You have up to two weeks left.”

“I don’t think I need quite that long. A week would be fine.”

He laughed a bit. “That kind of family visit, huh? Alright then, I think that can be arranged easily enough. Send in the written request and I’ll get you a confirmation by this afternoon.”

Sloane nodded. She’d gotten used to learning how to speak to the brass to get what she wanted on previous cases—though Renard was usually too sharp to fall for it. Harden respected hard work, going that route and saying as little as possible was the best route. “Thank you, sir.”

He smiled and went back to work as Sloane exited and went to sit back down and get ready for her shift. Nick and Hank came in a few minutes later, coffee in hand. Nick set an extra cup he was holding down on Sloane’s desk, surprising her.

“What’s this?”

“Little treat. Gingerbread latte,” Nick said with a smile.

Sloane arched her eyebrows and picked up the cup, sniffing it. “I don’t usually get flavored coffee…”

“Give it a try. You liked Monroe’s gingerbread cookies. I saw you kept taking them all during the Christmas get together,” Nick smiled.

Sloane blushed and gave him an annoyed look. “I’d like you to keep that to yourself…”

He chuckled. “Hey, everyone liked your sugar cookies.”

Sloane blushed more and Hank gave her a smile too. Sloane didn’t say anything and instead took a sip of the drink. “…Not bad.” They smiled more as they logged in to work. “Oh, um…I’m looking at taking next week off.”

“Really? Why?” Nick asked, confused at the suddenness.

She glanced around before leaning in and speaking more quietly. “I’m going to go get some more of my family’s collection. Since I guess I’m here for the foreseeable future, it’d be good to have whatever I can get to reference in the long run along with the trailer, in case there are any gaps. You’re right, the Library and Gallin might not be fast enough for most cases. And because we’re getting the weird stuff here that keeps throwing me for a loop. And I say that as a Grimm who’s hunted things all over the world and the country. This place is a hub of weird wesen shit.”

The boys smiled a little at the annoyed finish. “Well, can’t deny that some extra resources might help,” Hank said.

“Yeah…where are you heading?” Nick asked curiously.

“Northern California. A little town near Eureka, that’s why Renard chose it as where I used to work. Gonna drive down hopefully this weekend, load everything up and be back in a few days.”

“You need any help?”

“Eh, it’d be nice but I think I can handle it. It’s just going to be a pain going through everything...”

They nodded, but Nick still looked thoughtful.

After a couple of hours of paper work, Sloane received a confirmation she had next week off starting day after tomorrow, as she’d asked. No new cases cropped up luckily and she set some out of office messages on her work email and phone line before they clocked out. Heading home, Sloane started packing things and then paused when she looked at her phone on the desk. _Should I let Rosalee know I’m going to be gone for a while?_ She warred with herself a small bit before sighing and picking the phone up and pacing. The study was coming together and she was rather proud of it. There was an old day bed to lounge on, just in case she needed to sit and read for a long time. A hodgepodge of shelves she’d rescued from thrifts stores and the side of the roads around Portland were set up to hold her books, several of them still empty as she anticipated getting things to fill them. The old desk she’d bought in a bundle from Rosalee was still in the corner, triangular in shape with a corner hutch for more things. On top of it was a scrapbook. That might seem strange to those that had spoken to Sloane, but it was open to a page where Sloane had pasted a newspaper clipping about the Krampus (or _The Santa Snatcher_ as the newspaper called him). Sloane glanced at it as the phone still rang and smoothed down a corner that still wouldn’t stay down. The book was bulky with other articles, some yellowed with age, and even pieces of things she’d kept from hunts. It was another kind of journal really, one of her accomplishments.

Rosalee picked up just as she opened the closet door, showing a few heavy duty clothes hanging up but mostly weapons and boxes of Grimm knew what. “Sloane?”

“Hey. Um…what’s up?” she asked, not used to greeting people on the phone in a friendly manner.

Rosalee sounded amused. “Nothing much, just mixing a few things at the shop. You?”

“Um, I’m packing up to leave.”

“What?” she barked.

“No, not permanently,” Sloane said quickly, feeling stupid. “I just mean that I’m going to go get some more of my family’s stuff, bring it back here.”

“Oh,” Rosalee sighed. “Scared me for a minute, I thought we’d been doing so well…”

Sloane smiled a little, looking over her things to see if she wanted to bring more than just her knife. “Yeah, sorry. You’re usually the one calling me and when I’m on the phone it’s short and sweet so…conversations aren’t my strong suit.”

“I can tell, but that’s fine,” Rosalee said. “So you’ll be back?”

“Yeah. I’ve got the week off and it may take me that long to decide what to bring and get back. It’s about seven hours by car, but with my car empty for the first time in years, I can load up a bunch of stuff and drive back in a few days I’m sure. I’m just finishing packing now; I’ll probably leave early in the morning day after tomorrow.”

“Alright, text me when you get back and drive safe.”

Sloane paused, not used to someone saying that to her. It made her feel oddly flustered. “Uh…yeah, will do.”

“Alright. Talk to you later.”

“Right, later.”

Sloane hanged up and got back to packing, putting a few weapons in a bag just to be safe.

\------------

Nick had arrived home the usual time, just a little after Juliette. After months of living apart, it was still a great feeling to come back to his own house, and even better knowing she was there. Even after a few months back together it was still a good feeling. However, something was on his mind and it must’ve shown.

“Everything okay?” Juliette asked as she finished plating dinner. It was simple fair of baked chicken, vegetables and rolls but they cooked it together so it felt special

“Hm? Yeah, fine. Just thinking on some stuff.”

“What stuff? A case?” she asked, maybe a little excited.

“No, nothing like that. Sloane is going away for the week to get some of her family’s old stuff is all.”

“Oh? That sounds cool.”

“Yeah. She says it’s going to be a chore but she can handle it…”

“You wonder about that?”

“More like I wonder about her,” he admitted. “I mean, she’s really held to her promises about how she hunts here in Portland, but I guess I’m worried about…”

“Temptation to fall off the wagon?” she supplied.

“Yeah. I mean I think she’s going to come back, she’s leaving her stuff at her apartment, but I just wonder if she’s not going to go back to her old ways.”

“Well…you’re typically an action sort of guy, so what are you thinking.”

“…I thought about offering to come with her to help and just kind of keep an eye on her,” he said slowly, not sure how Juliette would react.

Juliette pursed her lips but looked thoughtful. “Hm…I don’t think she’d be too happy, but if it worries you that much you could ask.”

Nick blinked and frowned. “You aren’t upset about the idea? You’re boyfriend traveling with another woman and staying with her for a week? Alone?”

Juliette smiled. “Well, I admit it doesn’t _sound_ good. But, I trust you. I’m getting my memories and all that back slowly but surely and I know I’m falling back in love with you. I also know that your feelings for me literally broke some kind of drugged mind control spell over you. Kind of puts a girl’s mind at ease as far as a wandering eye.” Nick smiled and kissed her cheek, making her smile more. “Also…I don’t think you’re Sloane’s type, not sorry to say, because she treats you more like a little brother. Even though I’m pretty sure she’s younger than you…”

Nick laughed and gave her a peck on the lips. “You definitely have nothing to worry about as far as a wandering eye. I only have eyes for you.” He fluttered his eyelashes at her comically and she laughed and kissed him again.

\-------------------

Sloane went into work the next day to finish up some paperwork. Nick arrived a few minutes after her and set down another coffee cup. “Two days in a row?” Sloane asked, sniffing the gingerbread scent with a small smile.

“Yeah. It’s, uh, kind of a bribe today…” he said slowly with an awkwardly polite smile.

She paused in taking a sip, arching her brow suspiciously. “Bribe?”

“Yeah…”

“For what?”

“I’d, uh…like to come with you and help.”

Sloane’s eyebrows shot up. “Come with me…to California?”

“Yeah. I mean, another set of hands and eyes might help?”

She gave him a flat look and moved to put the cup on his desk. “Pass.”

Nick blocked her hand and frowned. “C’mon. I have vacation saved up too, I can help you.”

“Help her with what?” Hank asked, walking over to sit with them with his own cup of coffee.

“Nick wants to tag along with me because he thinks I need help going through my own stuff,” she said snidely.

Nick sighed but he’d learned by now to be patient with Sloane and her pride. “I’m not offering because I think you need it, I’m offering because I want to help my friend.”

She paused and gave him an odd look that he didn’t really recognize. She looked baffled but also…flattered? “…It’s going to be an almost 7 hour car ride.”

“Sounds like fun. I’ve done longer than that in a road trip.”

“7 hours with me,” she clarified. “We have not spent that long cooped up in a small space together. And then we will be alone together in a house. ”

“I could follow you in my car,” he offered. “You still get alone time and extra space if there’s more you want to bring back. And an extra set of eyes to help you decide what you might need.”

Sloane looked thoughtful but still hesitant. She then looked to Hank. “What about you? I’m guessing you’d have to stay.”

Hank held up his hands. “Week off from you two bickering like an old married couple while I get to take it easy thanks to physical therapy and catch up on paperwork? Sounds great.”

Sloane rolled her eyes. “Well, at least you don’t want to come too; I have no idea where I’d keep two of you…”

Nick smirked a little. “So you’re saying I can come?”

“I’m saying I will think about it,” she clarified. “Are you going to actually ask for your time off?”

“Eh, I think I might be coming down with something,” he said. He faked coughed delicately and cleared his throat. “Should’ve gotten a flu shot.”

Sloane smiled, rolled her eyes, and shook her head a little as she went back to finishing some of her paperwork. “Well then. Hope you’re ready to leave by 6.”

“In the morning?” Nick gaped.

“Yep. I’ll send you directions.”

Nick huffed, knowing she was just trying to discourage him, and went back to working as well.

\-------------

Sure enough, Sloane was outside his house waiting for him at 5:30 in the morning. She texted him when she arrived and Nick groaned but got up. He’d gotten up earlier for cases before, but voluntarily getting up early was different. Juliette stirred but he kissed her temple and told her goodbye and to go back to sleep. He went down and unlocked the door, then texted her to come in and have something to eat while he got ready and surprised him by taking him up on it. He came down to her munching on one of Juliette’s blueberry bagels.

“I was going to suggest we stop for breakfast, but I guess we can save that for lunch,” Sloane said.

“Sounds good.” Nick poured himself some coffee and grabbed a breakfast sandwich from the freezer to heat up. “How long has it been since you’ve been down there?”

Sloane turned thoughtful and gazed up at the ceiling. “Um…I guess last time would be three years ago?”

“That long?”

She shrugged. “I usually made due with what I had. Speaking of which, here.” She reached into her jacket and handed him a rather expensive looking walkie-talkie and a couple of sheets of paper. “Map and directions I’ll be taking, just in case you lose sight of my car. And if we need to stay in contact on the road, this will be easier than our phones,” she gestured to the walkie-talkie. “They’re fully charged, set to a private frequency, and have a range of 50 miles.”

“Wow…Nice,” he said, unfolding the directions to glance over them.

She smiled and finished the bagel, dusting her hands of the crumbs. “Hit the yellow button on the side if you need to talk to me. But don’t do it unnecessarily, these still count as handheld devices and California has that law about driving with them…”

“Right, got it.” Nick put the walkie-talkie in his own pocket and grabbed his breakfast sandwich and coffee. “So…what’s this place like? Is it just a storage facility?”

Sloane frowned and then sighed, figuring she should go ahead and say this now. “No. It’s my, uh…childhood home I guess you’d say.”

Nick paused in eating and looked up in surprise. “Your…home?”

“Old home,” she clarified. “The house my grandmother lived in. She kept all her Grimm stuff in the basement—kept it locked when I was a kid. Told me monsters were down there. She wasn’t exactly lying I guess…”

“But…that’s where…” he started, unsure how to phrase it delicately.

“She was murdered. Yeah,” Sloane nodded.

“…I can understand why you don’t return often,” he said gently. “And why you maybe didn’t want company.”

She shrugged and nodded to him. “Eat up, might not eat again till around noon.”

Nick nodded and ate the breakfast sandwich, then grabbed the small suitcase he’d packed up from the bottom of the stairs. “Ready when you are.”

“Been ready, Detective,” she said, heading out the door.

They were out on the road just a little after 6, heading out the I-5 to US-199. Nick had to admit, driving for 6+ hours was not great fun, but he’d done longer road trips over the years. Admittedly, it was more for fun and with better, and actual, company, but a part of him was excited to see some of the new items Sloane’s old home was sure to have. He had music playing as he drove, some Elvis and Aerosmith and other classic rock that helped pass the time.

It was about three and a half hours in as they were driving that the walking talk clicked and crackled with Sloane’s voice. “Nick, you read me?”

Nick picked up the walkie-talkie from the front passenger seat were he’d set it. “Yeah, loud and clear.”

“Got some traffic up ahead, looks like someone had a wreck. I’m going to move to the far left lane, try to keep me in sight if you can.”

He could see the cars slowing down just as she was speaking, piling up a little. “Right, will do.”

“…Is that Queen?” she asked.

Nick was surprised and smirked a little, since he had been listening to “ _We Will Rock You_ ”. “Yeah. Surprised you recognized it.”

“Hey, I don’t live in a cave,” she responded, though she sounded amused. “Guess I can’t fault your taste in music at least. Over and out.”

Nick smiled and set the walkie down, keeping Sloane’s big black Subaru Outback in sight as she changed lanes. They passed by the wreck and he had to admit it looked pretty bad. Someone had crashed through the median coming the opposite direction and nearly gone through the guardrail on the other side. They could’ve gone over the small hill and into the residential area below if they hadn’t gotten caught on the rail. It reminded him of the accident that had taken his parents—well, his father’s life and he felt a twinge inside. He often thought that when passing car wrecks. He knew now it was a bomb, but at the time it had been written off as an accident. It was still a pain he felt even now, almost fifteen years later. He wondered then how Sloane felt, returning to the site of her worst memory like this.

They drove all the way through Oregon and into California, making good time. At around noon they rolled into a small town called Wildred. It had a pretty hand carved sign that looked at home among Monroe’s European cuckoo clocks.  The town itself looked rather old fashioned, with a downtown reminiscent of the 1950s. It still had modern chains of stores and restaurants, like a Walmart on the outskirts of town, but for the most part it was still pretty small town feeling. Around them were also miles of forest land. Not the giant, ancient redwoods further south but some tall evergreens that made the hills around them feel somehow more sheltered.

He grabbed the walkie-talkie as they were about to hit the town proper. “So…this is your hometown?”

“I grew up here, yes,” Sloane answered.

“It’s cute.”

“It’s quaint,” she corrected, sounding a bit resigned. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, actually, kind of starving…”

“There’s a diner up ahead…I remember it being good. Turn left on Redwood.”

“Got it.” Nick followed her down what must’ve been Main Street, and then left down Redwood Lane. The diner was fairly easy to spot as it also looked straight out of the 50s sat in a huge lot. It was a good size, long train-car like building painted red and white blue with chrome trim with a black and white checkerboard pattern around the lower third below the large windows. A red and white neon sign, off during the day, gave its name as _The Redline Diner_. Nick pulled up to a spot next to Sloane’s car and they both got out to stretch. “This is nice.”

“They must’ve given it a face lift recently; it was more rundown last time…” Sloane said. “Hopefully they didn’t change much else, the burgers were always good.”

“What about their fries?”

She smiled a little. “Also good and they come in curly or straight.”

“Nice,” Nick said as they headed for the door. Inside was still a blast from the past, though it looked like it must’ve been worked on as well. The walls were a pale turquoise-blue with white trim, making the white and bright red pleather booths and barstools pop. The floor was the black and white checkerboard while the counter was wrapped in white and pale blue tiles in the same pattern. On the far wall was a jukebox, but it appeared to be an MP3 model instead of records and there were signs about being able to select with your phone instead of having to go up. It was surprisingly crowded, possibly with groups of late lunches.

“…Weird…it’s almost the same, and yet really different…” Sloane said. “How could they afford this?”

“You from around here, honey?” the hostess asked, having heard her as she walked up.

Sloane hesitated a second but nodded. “Used to be, when I was a kid…”

“Well, things have been changing the last couple of years, so it’s fine if you don’t quite recognize it. Table for two? Or you two want to sit at the counter?”

Sloane said “Counter” at the same moment Nick said “Table”. They looked at one another in confusion and the hostess arched her eyebrows. “…A booth would be fine,” Sloane said.

She nodded and led them over to one of the booths near a window, setting down some menus. “Can I get you two something to drink? We have sodas, milkshakes, and beers both bottled and on tap.”

Sloane blinked and looked up at her. “Beer? At the Redline?”

She smiled a little tightly. “New management’s idea…”

“What happened to Mr. Morrison?”

She frowned sadly. “He passed away about a year and a half ago…”

“Oh…I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. Nick noted she sounded sincere. “Who’s running the diner now though? His son? Grandson?”

“Ah…no. They sold it earlier this year.”

She looked confused, maybe even affronted. “Sold it? But…”

“Yeah…” she sighed, probably thinking the same things she was. “But can’t stop progress. Anyway, I should keep working. My manager can get real impatient if I talk too long…”

“Right…Um, I’ll just take a coke.”

“Same for me,” Nick said. She nodded and walked off. Sloane looked around again, frowning slightly. “Don’t like the changes?”

“It’s just…weird,” she said slowly. “I came to this place all the time as a kid with…with my grandmother. She was friends with the owner, Mr. Morrison. He was a teetotaler, never let alcohol in here. The jukebox was old and coin operated. Lots of stuff from the forties to the eighties in there. In recent years some of the booths were mostly duct tape but it was still a good place. Now Mr. Morrison is dead and his family sold it and…whoever bought it just gave it this huge facelift instead of doing their own thing?”

“Maybe they’re nostalgic for it too?” Nick supplied.

“Maybe…The town seemed different in some places too. More developed…That Walmart is new, and so are a lot of other businesses and developments we passed on the way in. I mean I get that progress happens but…” She sighed. “I guess it’s just weird. For so long it felt like it was frozen in time, like it wouldn’t change in any really noticeable way. Now it feels like it’s been pushed forward really suddenly.”

Nick felt a bit sympathetic at how wistful she sounded. “You haven’t been here for three years. A lot can change in that time.”

“A lot can change in three days,” Sloane pointed out. Nick nodded, knowing how true that was given what he’d experienced. Sloane opened the menu. “Hm…menu’s mostly the same, though it’s got some fancier stuff on here too…and the prices are all a lot higher than I remember from last time.”

“Eh, I’m hungry enough I don’t mind. What would you recommend from the good old days?” Nick said with a smile.

Sloane smiled indulgently. “The burgers were always really good, Mr. Morrison had a secret recipe for them, they’re kind of smoky and chargrilled. Grilled the onions with them. He has a special seasoning for the curly fries too. …Or had.”

“Sounds good to me.”

A waitress brought over their drinks and took their orders. Sloane sat quietly for a bit, looking out the window thoughtfully. Nick wasn’t sure they were happy thoughts but he wasn’t sure about asking her to divulge them either. Likely she’d just tell him it was nothing. “So, uh…got any friends to visit here?”

Sloane looked at him and then shook her head. “Not really…most of my generation moved away I think, and even then I moved away at nine and didn’t really come back till I was eighteen. A few people recognized me, but it was kind of awkward being the girl whose grandmother was murdered…”

He grimaced. “Yeah…I guess I can see that…”

A few minutes later their food was brought out, two very gourmet looking burgers and a pile of curly fries on heavy plates.

“Wow, Mr. Morrison would call this excessive…” Sloane muttered after she’d gone. “He just used baskets and paper placemats.”

“Still looks good,” Nick said. He picked up the burger and took a bite, humming and talking around the bite. “Yeah, tastes good too.”

Sloane’s lips thinned out but he could swear it was an attempt not to smile. “Couldn’t tell by the huge bite you already made in yours.” She picked hers up and took a bite as well. She chewed but then paused and looked disappointed.

“Not good?” Nick asked around his second bite.

Sloane swallowed and sighed. “No, it’s fine…”

“Just not like before,” he guessed.

She smiled wanly. “Am I a broken record?”

He smiled reassuringly. “I get it. Adapting to change is one thing, but suddenly being confronted with it is another.”

She smiled a little and took another bite. “It’s not bad, really. I guess Mr. Morrison took his recipe with him.”

The waitress, who had been walking up to see how they liked their food, paused and looked at her curiously. “You knew Mr. Morrison?”

Sloane looked up, noting her nametag as “Emily”, and nodded. “Yeah. I used to eat here with my grandmother every Saturday as a kid…”

“Are you here to visit her?” she asked with a smile.

“No, she passed away a while ago. Just a visit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…” she said.

“It’s alright. Who bought this place though, the hostess didn’t’ say.”

Emily shifted nervously, looking around, before leaning in. “This company called Summer Bridge. They moved here a couple of years ago and started buying up property to renovate. Rumor is they want to turn this place into a resort town if you can believe it.”

“A resort town?” Nick asked.

“Yeah. Like a fancy tourist trap for yuppies basically. They brought in the Walmart and those other chains outside, and now they started in town. Buying the old shops and getting higher end names to move in. They made one of those camps companies can come to for their team building out by the lake and cabins and motels and stuff. And it’s actually working! People are coming up here for it.”

“I see…that explains a lot,” Sloane said.

“Is it a bad thing?” Nick asked.

“Depends on who you ask,” Emily said. “It’s great that people are coming and spending money some places, but Summer Bridge is putting a lot of the locals out of business doing it. Families that have been here for years have had to move away because they can’t make a living anymore. And sometimes, well…things seem to work out for them a little too conveniently I think.”

“What do you mean?” Nick asked, finishing his burger and wiping his mouth. It might be the detective in him, but the way she said that sounded like she suspected something.

“Mr. Morrison…he wasn’t young by any means, and I freely admit he didn’t take good care of himself. But it wasn’t his heart or any other body problems that took him down. He had an accident in the kitchen. Slipped on a puddle of grease.”

Sloane looked shocked a moment before narrowing her eyes. “Jacob Morrison was a neat freak in that kitchen; he’d never leave a puddle of grease on the floor because he knew something like that could happen. I remember he laid into a line cook for not emptying the grease traps on time because they’d fill up and splash over.”

“Exactly, so did I!” she hissed. “He was burned real badly too…”

“Burned?”

“He was apparently moving a pot of boiling water around…scalded him real bad,” she said sadly. “It was ruled an accident. But then his son and grandson, who both had shares in the restaurant, just sell out at what I heard was a super low offer and suddenly move away without hardly a word to anyone. Mr. Morrison had no intention of selling, but they did awfully quick. Very next day after the sale went through the company started renovations on this place and…well, it’s nice but the locals don’t exactly feel welcome… The prices are a lot higher and I can only really eat here because I work here. I am lucky they hired me back I suppose, but the whole thing still feels weird.”

Sloane nodded a bit, understanding. “That is…very odd.”

Nick shook his head. While part of his detective sense was tingling, his rationality was still in charge. “It _sounds_ off from what you say, but wouldn’t the police investigate if they really had any cause for suspicion? And would this place really be that important?”

The waitress snorted. “You overestimate our town police. We got a Sherriff who’s in his sixties and prefers fishing for catfish rather than criminals. And probably gets some kickbacks from the town because hey, tourists mean money. As for why, they want to make this place as upscale as they can. They want to build something out in the woods too I hear. Never mind they’ll destroy probably half the forest to do it…”

Sloane frowned.  “Well their going to have a hard time doing that…”

“Oh, they have. A few people with a little land at the edge have said they might, but most of the actual land they want belongs to two people. One of them isn’t selling, and the other died real tragically a loooong time ago and left it to her granddaughter that no one has hardly seen in the last fifteen years.” She paused and then looked at Sloane again. “You…are you…?”

Sloane gave Nick a glance before nodding slowly. “Sloane Larson. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh…um…” She looked incredibly awkward now. “We’ve…met. You were in my first grade class and, um...Sorry, id didn’t recognize you. You’re, uh…hair is different.”

“S’okay, I didn’t recognize you either…” She glanced behind her. “Your manager is giving you a rather heated look,” Sloane said. “You should probably make your rounds again.”

“Right! Right,” she quickly walked off again.

Nick looked back at Sloane. “She got really nervous when she found out who you are…”

Sloane took another bite of her burger, chewing it more like a robot as her feelings warred inside her. “The circumstances of my grandmother’s death are kind of local lore at this point given how murder doesn’t happen too often around here. And the fact her nine year old granddaughter witnessed it is also kind of well known.”

“Oh…”

“It’s why I don’t normally advertise who I am when I come visit. It tends to make people…shy.”

Nick nodded in understanding. Certainly he wasn’t sure how to approach the subject most of the time either.

They ended up splitting the check and Sloane stood to head out with him. They got back out to the road that led out of town and up towards the forest, the trees dusted in white. Nick thought to himself that this place was lovely around Christmas, like something straight from a Thomas Kinkaid panting. He was grateful for four wheel drive as they headed up a frozen dirt road through the trees. Then they came to a large fence weaving between the trees. Sloane parked the car but left it idling as she got out and unlocked the gate before getting back in to continue the drive.

It wasn’t long after the gate they pulled up to a surprisingly big house. It was about the size of his house back home, but rather than a craftsman style it was more like a farmhouse. It looked old, more than fifty years if he had to guess. It was two stories, made of white washed wood siding with a big wrap around porch and a red shingled roof. It looked like it could use a new coat of paint on the outside but otherwise appeared to be in good shape. Sloane drove up and parked just outside of the detached matching garage and Nick parked next to her.

“This is nice…” he said as he climbed out and took a closer look.

“Yeah…” Sloane said, staring at it for a couple of seconds. She rubbed her hands together to warm them after a moment. “C’mon, it’s going to be cold inside too if we don’t get the heater started.”

Nick nodded and followed her up to the door and she unlocked it to head inside. There was a beep and she turned to a keypad next to the door and input a code quickly. It was a bit analogous, a security system in an older house like this. “That new?”

“Newish,” Sloane said. “We had an older version growing up. I had this installed a few years ago to deter uninvited guests. Makes a huge racket if you don’t punch in the code and deadbolts the basement door.”

“Basement door?”

“Where the stuff we’re looking for is. Don’t want trespassers finding that. The system runs on solar power if you can believe that, there’s a panel on the roof, so I don’t have to keep the electricity running all year. Still subscribe but it’s a super low bill without anything really draining it and I keep most parts shut off. There’s a sensor on the fence which goes all around the house, though we technically own a most of the land around here.” She headed further inside and it was chilly even inside. Sloane went and turned on the thermostat while Nick walked further in to explore. Directly to the side of the entry way was the dining room, an office on the other side. Stairs led up to the second floor around the corner, and across that way was the kitchen and family room. Every bit of furniture was covered with old sheets and in the pale light coming through the old, faded curtains it looked like a ghosts congregating. “Sorry it’s kind of musty…”

“It’s okay, it’ll air out.”

“We’ll need to head back to town for something for dinner too, there’s no food here.”

“We could hit a grocery store.”

“I don’t really cook,” Sloane said, starting to take some of the sheets of the furniture.

“I can. A little at least.”

“I’m fine eating out; it’s what I usually do. I can’t guarantee if much in the kitchen actually still works.”

“Alright…Is there anything I can do right now?”

“I guess help take the sheets off some of the furniture. Might as well wash them while I’m here. I’ll need get the electricity started again if we want the heater on so I need to go check the box in the basement.”

“I’ll get the sheets; you do that I wouldn’t mind a little heat.”

“There should be firewood in the mudroom too, just in case. In the cold it might take me a bit to get it going.” Sloane went over to a door that must’ve been to the basement. It looked like a normal interior door, but when she unlocked it with another key on her ring, it took some effort to open. Nick realized it was super reinforced, like a bomb shelter. She disappeared down the stairs and Nick was tempted to follow, but he started pulling sheets off. The dust wafted off like ocean sprays as the sheets rippled and waved and he tried to keep from breathing it in. Rolling them up, he set them aside on a chair. They fell over after the fourth one and he hummed in annoyance as he stooped to pick them up. Then he heard the sound of a shotgun cocking.

“Put your hands where I can see them,” a voice behind him said. It wasn’t a man’s voice, more of a low, gravely woman’s voice. Nick slowly put his hands up and straightened. “Turn around. Slow.” He did, keeping his hands up. He tried to keep his face perfectly innocent, though he was taken aback by who was threatening him. The woman who had entered the house was older, about the age of his mother, with graying black hair and deep tan skin with a few wrinkles around her nose and mouth. Her hair was braided and pinned up and she was wearing a long pea-green coat. He was also head and shoulders taller than her, but that didn’t matter much to the large double barrel shotgun she had aimed at his chest. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m…a visitor?” Nick said, not sure how else to phrase it.

“Yeah? Well you ain’t got permission.”

“Yes I do,” he said slowly. “I’m a friend of Sloane’s, her guest.”

That got her attention and she lowered the gun a couple of inches. “Sloane? You know Sloane?”

“Yeah…so could you maybe put the gun down?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not some asshole from Summer Bridge? Trying to find the deed or something? This ain’t some western, kid, that won’t do you hell of a lot of good and we don’t keep things like that here.”

“What? No, I-”

Finally he could hear footsteps on the basement stairs and Sloane came back through the door. “Alright, heater should come one soon-" She paused when she saw the scene, gaping a little before smiling. “Aunt Mim!”

The shotgun went down to the woman’s side and she smiled back, taking quick steps over. “Sloane!” They embraced and Sloane looked the happiest he’d seen all day, maybe since they’d met. They pulled back and the woman cupped the side of her face. “God, it’s been three years, girl! Where have you been?”

“Working. I, uh…changed careers,” she said with a wane smile.

“Oh? Not a flight attendant anymore?”

“Flight attendant?” Nick asked in confusion. Sloane shot him a warning look and he quickly shut up.

“Yes. I went into law enforcement. I’m a police officer now. Detective actually. I climbed the ladder very fast.”

“Wow! That is quite a change!” she laughed. “You were always a bright girl though, and can handle your own. Oh, so do you know this kid?” she gestured at Nick with the gun again, making him tense, but Sloane quickly pulled the barrel away and took it from her hands.

“Yes, this is Detective Nick Burkhardt. My coworker. I brought him along to help move some stuff.” She sent Nick an apologetic look.

 “Move some stuff?”

“Yes…there’s a few things of Oma’s I’d like to have. To remember her by. Now I have the space for it.”

“Hm. So you finally settled down some place? But not here?” she said, looking torn between relief and disappointment.

“Yeah…I-”

“Wait, hold on. You two come down to our place to warm up while this place gets going, tell us there,” she said, patting Sloane’s shoulder and then looking at Nick.

“Us?” Nick asked.

“Mim, I don’t want to impose—”

“Oh no you don’t, we hardly seen you these last few years, you’re coming,” she all but ordered. “And you’re staying for dinner.”

“…Yes ma’am,” she sighed, but she looked fine with it. “But we need to go get some food for later in town, so can we come around dinner time?”

The lady pursed her lips but finally nodded. “I’ll accept that. Now, I’d best get back. Mind returning my gun?”

“Uh, I don’t know if I’m comfortable with someone walking around with a loaded shotgun,” Nick said delicately.

Sloane huffed a laugh and smiled. “Don’t worry, she never loads it, see?” She cracked the shot gun open and then blanched at the two shells inside. “Oh my God, Mim?! What the hell?!”

“…Been a lot of pests around lately. Needed to be prepared,” she said evasively.

Sloane gave her disbelieving look before pulling the shells out. “Keep them in your pocket till you need them, please, I don’t want you shooting off your foot like Old Chad did when I was a kid. Running the metal detector over his foot for the buckshot they didn’t get out and seeing his missing toes was creepy enough as a kid…”

Nick wondered who that was but Mim was frowning at her. “I’m not drunk trying to shoot raccoons…” She took the gun and put the shells in her pocket. “Tonight. 7.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Sloane said, easing up a little.

 “Good.” She moved for the door again but paused right next to Nick, looking him up and down speculatively before moving on again.

“…And that was…?” Nick asked once she was gone.

“Myriam Garcia. A friend of my grandmother, she lives up the main road in another part of the woods. I tend to call her Mim.”

“Aunt Mim I think was what you first called her…”

Sloane blushed just slightly but nodded. “Yeah, well…she’s like family so.”

Nick smiled a little. “I guess we’re expected to visit then?”

“Yeah. I mean, I was going to, I just didn’t expect to see her so soon. I’ll turn up the heater, get it a bit more livable in here, and we can head back to town.” She went over to the thermostat to get the heat going. As she did they heard a commotion of yelling and cursing outside and she glanced at Nick before rushing out.

Myriam was pointing her gun at another man who had come on the property. He was middle aged, dark haired, dressed in a suit with a long trench coat and briefcase he was holding up like a shield. “I’m not here for you, Miss Garcia!”

“I know what you’re here for you and can go back to town, you parasite!” she yelled, moving as if to stab him with the gun. “You get out of here before I turn you into Swiss cheese!”

“Mim, what the heck is going on?!” Sloane said, coming down the front steps. She slid a little on the icy walk but stayed upright and actually used the momentum to get to the older woman quicker, pushing the gun down. Nick was right behind her. “Quit pointing guns at people, what’s gotten into you?”

She snorted, keeping her eyes on the man in the suit. “You don’t know this guy, Sloane. You don’t want him here.”

The man put his briefcase back down to the side and straightened his coat. “I think that’s something she can decide, Miss Garcia. Not everyone is as…stubborn as you and Miss Oberto.”

“I guarantee you she’s more,” Nick said. “She’s just not armed.”

Sloane frowned at him but turned her attention to the stranger. “What do you want, Mister…”

He put on a friendly smile and extended his hand. “Midgley. George Midgley. I’m from Summer Bridge Development.”

Nick’s eyebrows ticked up. “I heard that name in town…”

Sloane eyed the hand but instead crossed her arms. “I only just got into town. Why are you coming up to my house?”

“Ah, well, we’ve been trying to get into contact with the owner of this property for some time. I had thought it was Miss Garcia at first…”

Sloane nodded slowly. “She held it in trust till I turned 18 and it became mine.”

“As it should and as it will stay,” Mim nodded.

“I know all that after a lot of research, but we were never able to get ahold of you, Miss Larson. You see, we want to buy your property. All of it.”

Sloane arched her eyebrows. “All of it? Why would you want to buy a thousand hundred acres of forest?”

“A thousand acres?” Nick asked in surprise. “You have that much land here?”

“Yes, and combined with Miss Garcia’s thousand acres, that’s quite a bit of land that really that you’re doing nothing with-”

“We’re protecting it from the likes of you,” Mim said. “It’s got hiking trails and nature trails and that’s all it needs. And I’ll be getting it named a nature reserve or a national park or something before you can get your hands on it.”

“But it could be so much more!” He looked opened his briefcase and pulled out some papers. “We want to build a recreation center up here; a place locals and visitors can come and have fun.” He eagerly pushed the papers to Sloane, apparently missing her narrowed eyes of suspicion.

“Ha! You’re so full of—” Mim started.

“Okay, okay,” Nick walked over. “Look, Mr. Midgley, we just got in after driving all morning. I think it’s a bit soon for this, and I think coming up here suddenly a bit overwhelming.”

“And overeager,” Sloane muttered.

The man seemed annoyed but nodded slowly. “I see, yes…I apologize for the inconvenience, I just wanted to at least let you know our interest right away.” He pulled out a card and handed it to Sloane. “Please, contact us are your next convenience, we’d like to discuss this further.”

“Right…If you don’t mind, we’re gonna lock up and head out, so…”

“Yes, of course. Have a good day,” he smiled and walked carefully back towards his black luxury car.

“Burn that card and that proposal,” Mim said.

Sloane looked at her and frowned more. “Aunt Mim, what has been going on here while I’ve been gone?”

The older woman huffed and cracked the shotgun back open as a precaution. It was still unloaded Nick noted. She’d just wanted to scare the man apparently. “You two come down to the house now instead of later and we’ll explain, alright? Jean will want to see you.”

Sloane nodded. “Okay, we’ll see you there…” She watched Mim head to her car, a bright orange Subaru even older than Sloane’s. “Something is wrong here. She’s not usually so…combative. I mean, she can be crabby, but this is overkill.”

“So threatening strangers with a shotgun is new?” Nick asked. “Or is it just that it was loaded was a surprise?”

She gave a huff of a laugh awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry…I didn’t think she’d be here this quick, I set up alerts on her phone for the security system, but she’d usually just call me first, not show up armed like a cantankerous hillbilly…”

“So she’s like a caretaker?”

“Something like that. She’s like…and adoptive daughter of my grandmother’s. Her and Jean Oberto who lives with Mim. They live close by and have been looking out for me for years. That’s why I call them my Aunts…Like I said, the house was left to them in trust until I was old enough to inherit, so they took care of it for years before I finally came back. And then they kept taking care of it when I left again.”

“I see…I get the feeling she really doesn’t like this “Summer Bridge” company,” he pointed out.

“I didn’t get a great feeling from them either…Something in my gut.” She thumped on her chest with a frown. “That or it’s those blasphemous curly fries…How’d he know I was in town though?”

Nick nodded, remembering the conversation with the waitress. He hoped that this company wasn’t as shady as she thought, but there was definitely something going on.

“Let’s follow Mim down. Oh, but…nothing about wesen or Grimms,” she said seriously. “They don’t know anything about them. Oma managed to keep them away from it.”

“Got it. Mim’s the word,” he said with a grin.

“…Maybe just don’t talk,” she said, turning to head to the car.

They hopped into Sloane’s car and went back down through the gate after Mim and Midgley were out of the vicinity. Once out of the gate she got out and locked it again to make sure no one got to the house while they were gone. When she got back in and buckled up she said, “Remind me to lock that when we get back too. I’d like to keep the sudden visits down to a minimum.”

“Will do.”

They drove down to the main road only to make the very next turn and head back into the woods. They didn’t notice the black car parked a ways away watching them. Midgley pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number, tapping on his steering wheel in irritation. “It’s me. …Yes, she’s here, but I think she’s going to be as stubborn as the two old bats. …Right, I understand. I’ll wear her down. I think I’m close with Garcia too, she’s getting paranoid. …I’d rather not resort to that. It was hard enough to cover up the last time. The Sherriff is getting to be a pain. Him and a certain gossipy waitress apparently...What?” He barked. “I just said I don’t want-…No, I understand. If it’s her orders, I’ll see to it.” He hanged up the phone and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. With a hiss he felt his face morph, turning red and hard like a shell, with two mandibles and two antennae wiggling in agitation.

\----------------

Sloane drove up to a house similar to her grandmother’s, but painted a sage green and with a red metal roof. Mim’s truck was already in front of the house and as they pulled up, another older woman stepped out. She had red-brown hair with streaks of silver in it pulled into a messy ponytail, a large nose, high cheek bones etched with lines and wide gray eyes. She broke out into a smile when Sloane stepped out and rushed over. “Sloane!”

Sloane smiled and accepted the hug. “Aunt Jean!”

Nick was surprised but smiled as the woman hugged Sloane like she’d missed her dearly. She pulled back and eyed her up and down. “Look at you!”

“I haven’t changed that much…”

“You look good though! You seem much more relaxed than last time.” Sloane looked surprised but she didn’t have a moment to comment before she was being ushered towards the door. “I just put on some water for coffee and tea.” She glanced back and paused when she finally noticed Nick as he was coming around the car. “Oh! Oh my, Mim wasn’t lying…” She looked suddenly giddy and grabbed Nick’s arm. “Hello there!”

“Um, hello…”

She smiled and walked with him towards the door, Sloane rolling her eyes and following. “I’m Jean Oberto. And you are…?”

“Jean! Leave the boy alone!” Mim shouted from inside.

“I’m just getting to know Sloane’s young man!”

Nick and Sloane both paused in the entryway as the door closed behind them. “What?” Nick asked.

“No, Aunties, he’s not ‘mine’,” Sloane sighed, actually blushing. “He’s my guest, my coworker…My friend I guess you’d say…”

“Gee, don’t get all warm and fuzzy on me,” Nick muttered. Sloane rolled her eyes.

Jean pouted. “Oh…I was hoping you’d brought home someone special.”

Sloane shook her head. “Nope, no one special I’m afraid.”

“Seriously feeling that way too,” Nick said.

Mim came to the living room, wiping her hands from washing them. “You know Jean is just a hopeless romantic, hon. She’s hoping you’ll find someone to spend your life with.”

“We can’t all be as lucky as you two,” Sloane said gently.

Nick blinked glancing from her back to Mim and Jean. They both smiled and put their arms around each other. “No, I suppose not,” Jean said, turning to give Mim a hearty kiss on the cheek. Mim grinned and didn’t quite giggle but looked close to it.

Nick blushed in surprise, not having seen that coming. Mim gave him a smile. “Cat got your tongue, kiddo?”

“Uh, no. I mean, I have no problem, I, um…Sloane didn’t mention…”

“Oh…Should I have?” she asked, honestly confused.

Mim and Jean both laughed. “It’s fine, really. Been a while since we could surprise someone like this,” Mim said. “Most people know us in town as the Gay Grannies nowadays since we were finally officially able to come out about ten years ago. Sloane’s known since she was little though.”

“Well yeah, you didn’t exactly hide in front of me…I walked in on you two making out like teenagers more times than I like to remember.”

“You still might too!” Mim said, laughing as Jean batted her shoulder in embarrassment.

Nick smiled, seeing how close they were. “You two have been together a long time then?”

“Longer than Sloane’s been alive,” Jean said. There was a shrill whistle and she ducked out of Mim’s arms to hustle to the kitchen. “Oh, that’s the kettle!”

Nick blushed when Mim goosed her in passing, Jean smacking the offending hand playfully away from her butt. Sloane just sighed and shook her head, though he thought he saw a fond smile in her lips. “C’mon, let’s sit down and you can catch us up on things. You said you’re a detective now?”

“Yeah. I, uh…got tired of the travel and decided to stay in one place for a while.” Nick kept his mouth shut despite knowing that wasn’t quite as true as it could be.

“And that place is…?”

“…Portland.”

“Oregon?” she asked, surprised. Sloane nodded. “Well, we expect you to visit more then!”

Sloane winced, looking guilty. “Sorry…Just…”

Mim’s smile dimmed and she reached out to take her hand. “I know, I understand. We just miss you, hon…At least call. Or shoot us an email!”

“…You have email now? You? The lady that thought the internet was just a fad as close as five years ago?” Sloane asked with a teasing smile.

Mim snorted and actually pinched her cheek; surprising Nick that Sloane let anyone do that. “Oh hush. It was Jean’s idea. She can sell her work easier.”

“Her work?” Nick asked.

“I’m jewelry maker,” Jean said, coming over with a tray of mugs. “I make various works out of clay, glass, wood, and most of all metal. I used to sell them in town…though mostly through the internet now.” She looked disappointed as she sat down next to Mim. “The little shop I always sold at is...”

“Green Grass?” Sloane asked in surprise. “But that place is almost as old as the town…”

“It’s that damn company,” Mim spat. “Summer Bridge. They brought in a bunch of big name, mass producing places that have cheap price tags and they couldn’t compete…Oh, but it’s still there. They just won’t sell Jean’s work, even though they were the best sellers.”

“Why would they do that?” Nick asked.

“To try and make us sell the land!”

“Myriam, calm down. Your blood pressure,” Jean said gently. Mim snorted but took a sip of her tea.  Jean looked at Nick and Sloane. “She is right though…they’ve been putting pressure on us since the moment they started developing Wildred.”

“They said they want to build a rec center up here?” Nick asked.

“Rec center?  Ha!” Mim retorted. “They want to build a luxury hotel. They got that camp where yuppies can come to do trust falls and paintball, but they want a place people can come to get away from the city and still be pampered like babies.”

Sloane frowned and pulled the documents Midgley had given her out of her jacket pocket, flipping through. “…It does look more like a really high end lodge…”

“That’s part one. Someone got ahold of part 2 and put it around the town, showing they want to build a sprawling, twenty story hotel just behind the lodge, like a big monolith on the hills,” Jean said. “That’s put a bad taste in a lot of the locals’ mouths. I heard it was Mr. Morrison who outed it…and he had his accident soon after.”

Nick frowned, little alarms going off. “This is starting to sound a bit…”

“Conspiracy theory?” Mim guessed snidely. “You think we’re a couple of batty old ladies that watch too much _Murder She Wrote_?”

“Never said that,” Nick said quickly, holding up his hands.

“We know how it sounds,” Jean said. “But we also know what we’ve seen. Our friends, the oldies of the town, have been all but driven out or are gone, and this company is profiting by driving them away. And we refuse and...”

“And what?” Sloane asked worriedly.

“We’ve been having some issues,” Mim said. “People sneaking onto our property. Jeanie’s work shop was ransacked a few weeks ago.”

“Ransacked?” Nick asked in surprise.

“Yes. Several of my projects were destroyed, and some of my tools were broken or damaged. Before that though I had a complaint filed against me for noise, but there are no nearby neighbors, and I make hardly any noise unless I’m hammering metal…When my workshop was broken in to, nothing valuable was taken, just destroyed.”

Nick frowned and glanced at Sloane, who was looking both worried and upset. “…You haven’t gone to the police?” he asked.

“We filed a report, but Sheriff Grover isn’t exactly up to snuff,” Mim said.

“So we heard. I don’t know much about him,” Sloane said.

“You haven’t had to deal with him,” Jean said. “He became Sherriff after you…left.”

Sloane winced but nodded.

It was quiet a moment before Mim put her cup down. “C’mon, detective hot shot. See if you can figure some stuff out looking around.”

“Huh?”

“What? C’mon, I used to take you through these woods as often as your gran.”

Sloane hesitated, glancing at Nick and Jean. “Go on,” Nick said. “If you find something you can tell me.”

She nodded slowly and stood, following Mim to the door. Jean watched them go and sighed. “I think Mim just wants some time with her. We miss her whenever she’s gone…”

Nick smiled, sipping his own tea. It was an oddly fruity variety. “You’ve known her since she was a kid?”

“I’ve known her all her life,” Jean said. “Both of us. Rebekah, her grandmother, was like our second mother…Sloane’s mother was a traveler too and one day came home 7 months pregnant. Stayed till the baby was born, then up and left again a few months later.” She pursed her lips. “Can’t say I care for her, leaving her mother to raise Sloane alone…but then again, Rebekah probably did a better job in the long run in this nine years than she would have. And she was the closest thing we had to a child too…Then Rebekah…”

Nick looked at her sympathetically. “I’m…sorry about…Sloane told me what happened.”

Jean looked at him in shock. “She did? Huh…here I thought she’d never talk about it again…” She sighed. “You’ll probably notice she doesn’t want anything to do with the kitchen in the house. That’s where it happened…”

Nick remembered how she practically vetoed doing anything in the kitchen and frowned. “The kitchen…?”

“Yes. Those…monsters broke in around dinner time,” she hissed, getting emotional. “They knew they were home, they knew Sloane was just a child, but they still broke in. Rebekah hid her in a crawl space in the kitchen when they started trying to break down both the front and back doors…they didn’t find her thankfully, but she saw…” A few tears escaped and she wiped at them quickly.

Nick looked into his mug of tea, trying to imagine what that was like for a nine year old girl. “…What was her grandmother like?”

Jean smiled. “Rebekah? Oh, she was a spitfire. Stubborn but thoughtful, ready to fight but compassionate. And witty too, always able to crack a joke. I miss that the most, she always had us laughing even at the darkest times. It was how she coped I think… It’s because of her I met Myriam too.”

“Really?”

“Yep. She used to travel a lot for work you see, and I…well, I got into a bit of trouble. My family wasn’t great. Lucky for me she got me out of it, and brought me back here to Wildred to start over. I stayed with her for a bit, met Mim and…well, there was an attraction from the start. Even when I tried to live on my own, I wanted to be with Mim…”

Nick smiled. “You’re lucky to have been together so long…”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. It’s a lot of work. That woman drives me crazy sometimes, good and bad. But it’s all worth it.” She sipped her tea and eyed him. “Are you sure you and Sloane aren’t…?”

He blushed and shook his head. “No, definitely not. I have a girlfriend I love very much back home. I’m just here to help Sloane out because she’s been a big help to me and…well, I want to be her friend,” he said honestly. “I’ve known her almost a year now, after she, uh, transferred to our department but…she’s not the easiest person to get close to.”

Jean nodded sadly. “The first time we even saw her after she left was when she was 16…It was the first time she’d been back. We were so happy to see her but…she was changed. I suppose you can’t go through something like that and not change. It’s still hard to keep in touch, but we love her like our child…” She sipped her tea again and then smiled as if struck by a brilliant idea and stood. “In fact, let me show you…ah!” She pulled a photo album off of a shelf and walked over, sitting next to Nick. “You may not be her boyfriend, but this might be my only chance to embarrass her with pictures.”

Nick felt the smile cut his face in half. “Oh, I’m up for that.”

\--------------

Sloane followed Mim out to the large shed that was Jean’s studio, about ten minutes from the house through the woods. She could see there was plywood screwed over one of the windows. “They broke the window?”

“Yeah. Busted the door too though. And the heater! Just seemed like they wanted to cause as much damage as they could. I don’t like Jeanie working out here in the cold like this…”

“When did this happen?” Sloane asked, looking the building over.

“Last month. Like we said, it came after a lot of little incidents and complaints against us.” She unlocked the newer lock at the door, pulling it open for Sloane.

She hummed and paused when she noticed what looked like melted metal on the door frame before stepping in. “D…did they melt the lock somehow?”

“Something like that,” Mim said. “Of course, I had to point that out to the Sheriff…” Sloane frowned before walking in. It was a nice spacious shed model with windows big enough for the average person to crawl through with a squeeze. She noted it was pretty bare inside now, but she remembered there being wracks of tools for working glass and metal as well as supplies set up along the walls before. “We cleaned it out since nothing was being done,” Mim said.

Sloane sighed and turned back to her. “What do you want me to do exactly?”

Mim shrugged. “I just figured as a detective now you might have some ideas.”

Sloane sighed and straightened. “I can put together some ideas, but this crime scene is old, not like it was, and I don’t have any authority out here. You’ll have to make the locals listen if I find anything.”

Mim smirked. “Oh, you know how persuasive I am, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Sloane smiled and looked around. “…I know things have changed, but somehow the trees still look the same…”

“Nice thing about forests sometimes. It’s always changing, but usually so slowly you don’t see it,” Mim agreed. They stood in silence for a bit, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Sloane could remember just walking with Mim through the woods as a child. They talked when something of interest came up, but sometimes it was just about enjoying nature and the quiet. “You and your man should stay for dinner.”

Sloane flushed and sighed. “Not my man, Aunt Mim. He’s got a girlfriend and it’s not me. He’s just…a friend.”

“Well, that’s nice in and of itself!” She patted Sloane on the back. “You never talk about friends, was starting to think you didn’t have any!”

Sloane smiled at the tease, trying not to let on how close she was to the truth. “Yeah, well…staying in one place I admit has its benefits.”

“How many you got?”

“How many?”

“I want to know if you finally got to being a social butterfly, like when you were little and we had to watch you or you’d introduce yourself to everyone you laid eyes on.”

Sloane blushed but rolled her eyes. “I’ve got…a few. Um, Rosalee is probably the one I’m closest to, she’s cool. Hank is my other partner at the department, and Wu is there too. My boss is…okay. Bud I suppose. Oh, and Juliette, Nick’s girlfriend…” _Not counting Monroe, but I at least can be in the same room as him now…_

Mim smiled and put an arm around her. “I’m glad…I always worried who you were with, if you were alone…I don’t want you to be alone. I know what that’s like.”

Sloane leaned against her and sighed again. Mim still smelled like the woods, like pine and dirt. It was a comforting smell. She felt her press a kiss to her temple and then pull back. “C’mon. Colder than a polar bear’s ass out here.”

Sloane snorted. They turned to head back towards the house, but she paused when she heard something. Stretching her senses, she looked back and scanned the woods for any signs of being watched. Nothing stood out to her and she turned to keep heading along the trail with Mim.

Walking inside, she heard Nick and Jean laughing and frowned. Then she realized there was a photo album open between them. “Oh God…”

Nick grinned. “You never told me you did ballet,” he said, holding up a picture of a very young Sloane grinning with her arms above her head in a pink tutu.

“Oh, she was great!” Jean said. “So graceful, up until she got dizzy spinning and vomited all over the dance room. But she got much better after that.”

“I bet! And so cute! Look at that smile,” he held up another where her two front teeth were missing as she grinned. Mim laughed and went to sit next to Jean.

Sloane narrowed her eyes in warning. “Nick…”

“Oh, it’s just a little fun!” Jean said.

Sloane sighed and went to sit down, knowing this was going to be her evening now. Jean tapped a photo on her arm and she took it. She smiled sadly when she saw her Grandmother smiling next to her at one of her birthday parties. She was in her sixties but her hair still had the dark wave she always remembered, with a streak of white in her forelock, and the same wide, gray-green eyes Sloane saw in the mirror. She glanced up and saw Nick watching her. He quickly looked down again and Sloane sighed. This was more than she’d shared with anyone in years. She was getting the usual feeling when people got too close, the feeling that she needed to run. She’d felt it with Rosalee, and now she was feeling it with Nick. Except there was nowhere to really run to. Jean or Mim would probably stop her; she wasn’t going to get the opportunity to be alone for a while.

\--------

Emily sighed as she was heading home from the Redline Diner. It was almost 10 and she was tired after a long shift, being on the floor since noon. Her shift was supposed to be over two hours ago, but she had gotten asked to come back and help close because one of the other girls was sick. It was dark and cold and she didn’t have a car so she was walking home alone. Wildred was a safe enough town after all, or so she thought.

“Emily Fielding?”

She jumped and turned, grimacing when she saw who it was that had snuck up on her. “Mr. Midgely…Good evening.”

“Good evening. I wanted to thank you for the information earlier,” he said, loosening his tie.

“What? What information?”

“That Sloane Larson was back in town.”

“What? I only mentioned that to my manager…” she said in confusion.

“Yes, but he passed along that information. It was a valuable tip off.”

Emily shifted uncomfortably. “Well…you’re welcome?”

“However, being a gossip is also rather unbecoming,” he said. “Especially when you make certain…allegations against us.”

Emily swallowed and backed up a step. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your manager also overheard you speaking to Miss Larson about certain theories regarding the unfortunate death of Mr. Morrison.”

Emily took a sharp breath and bit her lip. “I…didn’t mean anything by it, I was just making talk.”

“Well, I think you’ve done enough of that. You should come with me. Perhaps we can clear up this misunderstanding at our offices.”

He reached for Emily but he hadn’t noticed her hand going into her purse. She pulled out a can of mace and held it out to him, making him pause. “I-I would rather not.”

Midgely arched his eyebrows at the mace. “Really? A bit dramatic. I don’t think you’ve ever even used that.”

“I will! I’m serious! I’m not going with you! J-just let me go home.”

“Why so scared? Do you really believe we killed Mr. Morrison? You’ve been watching too many mysteries, Emily. I’m just here to talk to you.” He took a step forward and Emily squealed and triggered the can, sending a shot right into his eyes. Midgley shouted, hands going to his face, and Emily turned to run. Just around the corner however someone grabbed her and pulled her into a restraining bear hug, a hand going over her mouth so she couldn’t scream.

“Not too smart, missy,” a voice said. He was a big man, a construction worker she guessed. Lots of them were in town while it was being developed. “None of us are alone here.”

Another man stepped out of the shadows, also in construction from the look of his clothes. “What should we do? I don’t think she’s going to cooperate.”

“Same as the old man,” Midgley spat, still wiping at his eyes.

“You sure? You and the boss normally try to avoid that type of solution.”

“I don’t normally get maced by a paranoid bitch,” he growled. “Let’s see how she likes it.” He woged suddenly, his skin turning red and hard like an exoskeleton, his eyes big and black, a pair of pincers and antennae wiggling about near his mouth. Emily screamed behind the man’s hand, trying to get away, but Midgley’s pincers went around her throat the moment the other man took his hand away. A deluge of acid leaked from his mouth and the scream she started ended in a gurgle of pain as it moved down her neck and over her body, burning her skin. Midgley threw her down and the other two men woged into the same bug-like creatures, more acid dripping from their mandibles.

Emily never made it home.

\--------------

Nick and Sloane walked back through the door to her grandmother’s house later that evening. It was thankfully a good temperature inside now and Nick and Sloane were able to hang up their jackets on the hooks by the door rather than keep them on. “Man, your Aunt Mim knows how to cook…that chicken was fantastic.”

Sloane smiled. “Yeah, she knows some stuff.” She glanced at the basement door and sighed. “It’s already past eleven...You want to start sorting through stuff tomorrow?”

“Sounds good to me. I’d like to call Juliette before we sleep.”

Nodding she gestured towards the stairs. “I’ll show you where you can sleep then.” They headed up and Sloane opened one door in the middle of the hall. It was apparently a guest room, painted a soft grey-blue with wooden floors and a full sized bed. The bed was bare, but Sloane went to the closet and pulled out a plastic bin. She pulled a whole sheet set out of the bin and tossed it to the bed. “They’re a little musty, but no dust. You good making it on your own?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Great. I’ll be in the room at the end of the hall if you need me. The bathroom is across from you, and the hot water should be ready if you want a shower or something. Oh, and there’s an extra quilt on the shelf in the closet if you want. I’ll wake you up about 8 so we can go get something for breakfast.”

“Okay, sounds good. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she waved, heading towards the room at the end of the hall.

Nick sat down on the bed and pulled out his phone. He dialed Juliette’s number, pulling off his shoes and setting them near the end of the bed. She picked up fairly quick and sounded happy. “Hey there stranger.”

“Hey, sorry. Been a long day.”

“Long as in a lot to do or long as in you wish you hadn’t gone?”

“Eh, neither really. Long car ride, but then we got to town and it’s…nice. Kind of a small town feel, but starting to get developed. Not sure how Sloane feels about that…But I met her Aunts.”

“She has Aunts?”

“Well, two older women who were friends of her grandmother,” he amended. “I guess she called them “Aunt Mim” and “Aunt Jean” since she was a kid.”

“Aww, that’s actually sweet.”

“I know, it’s surprising. Also, she did ballet as a kid!”

“Wait, seriously?” she asked, not believing him.

“I saw the pictures. There was a pink tutu,” he laughed. “She was cute…”

“I don’t have to be worried, do I?” Juliette teased.

He chuckled, but had sobered a bit as he remembered the pictures of a little girl in the tutu, and playing with frogs, and doing all the things normal children do. And how it ended. “No, it’s just…Seeing those pictures…how happy she was as a kid…”

“Makes you think, huh?” she asked, understanding.

“Yeah.” He sighed and rubbed through his hair. “We should probably head to bed though. You got work and we’re doing our organizing tomorrow. I just wanted to call and say I love you.”

He liked to imagine Juliette was smiling lovingly on the other side of the phone. “Yeah…Love you too.”

He grinned and hanged up, getting the bed set up and then changing into his sleeping clothes.

Sloane meanwhile had dressed in her warm flannels for bed in the master bedroom. She paused in getting in bed however. While she had replaced the mattress and sheets years ago, the frame was still her Grandmother’s old wooden four post bed. It felt wrong to sleep there, it always did. The only time she did when she was younger was when she had nightmares and climbed in bed with her. Frustrated at herself, she pushed all that aside and climbed in, turning off the old tiffany knock-off lamp on the bedside table.

In the morning, Sloane woke even before the sun. She did her usual morning exercises of 100 pushups, 100 sit ups, and standard stretches to get her body limber. She then padded down the hall and knocked on Nick’s door. “Hey, Nick? Get up so we can go grab breakfast and maybe some easy groceries, then we can get to work.”

“Mmm…should’ve known you were a morning person,” he called from inside, addled with sleep.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m really not, I’ve just been up for a while. You want a shower because I’m going to jump in and the water heater isn’t going to handle two at once.”

“Go ahead,” he yawned. Nick sat up and stretched, climbing out of bed. He padded back down stairs, fuzzy thoughts of coffee in his brain, but then paused at the kitchen when he remembered they had nothing to make coffee with. He looked over the kitchen, which was still stuck in the 80s, and sobered a little. Wooden cabinets, white laminate counters, and black appliances. The fridge was newer, maybe bought five years ago, but everything else looked like it hadn’t been used in a decade or more. He tried to imagine a brutal murder taking place there. There was no blood, the room long since cleaned obviously, but he saw a set of deep scratches on the edge of one of the laminate counters. Not long, just glancing blows right on the very edge. They’d be hard to notice usually but he was used to looking for the littlest details. Lining up his fingers, he realized they were claw marks. He took his hand back with a sigh and glanced around. He then saw there was a slight warp in the wall near a door. Opening the door, he saw it was a mudroom that had a back door leading to the back porch. Right next to the door in the mud room was a wall. Looking at the warp again, he pressed his hand against it and felt it give, but then it swung open. It was a hidden space in the wall, not very large though. He’d barely be able to fit inside. He remembered Jean talked about Sloane’s grandmother hiding her in a crawl space and his skin crawled as he thought about a nine year old girl hiding there while listening as her grandmother was killed just feet away.

“Jean told you?”

Nick jumped and turned to see Sloane at the entrance to the kitchen. She was dressed, but there was a towel around her shoulders to catch water from her still damp hair. He realized he must have been staring at the space for longer than he thought. She was looking at the crawl space with a stony expression. “I…Yeah. Sorry…”

“Nothing to apologize for,” she said, her tone overly light to his ears. She still wasn’t setting foot in the kitchen. “Shower’s free if you want.”

He had a feeling that was her way of ending that topic and nodded, pushing the hidden door shut and moving to go back upstairs. Sloane watched him head up and then looked back towards the hidden crawlspace.  The door had apparently warped over the years and wasn’t shutting properly, it was still open. Sloane took a deep breath and walked over, intent to shut it. Just looking at the darkened space inside though she had a visceral memory come to the surface. She remembered sitting at the dining table, eating, when her Grandmother seemed to sense something. She’d gotten up and gone to look out the front door. Whatever she saw, she slammed the door shut and bolted it before running back through to the kitchen. She moved to unlock the basement when there was a loud bang from the back of the house, startling Sloane.

“Oma?” she called, looking out the window. She could see the shapes of some human-like creature coming from the woods towards the house. She thought she saw red eyes in the darkness of the night. One of them was already on the porch though, trying to get the door open.

“Sloane, get over here!” she’d hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her from her chair.

“Oma? What’s wrong?” she’d asked.

She shushed her and then opened the hidden door, surprising Sloane who hadn’t even known it was there despite living in this house since she was a baby. Inside There were dried flowers hanging up. She knew now it was wolfs bane and other wesen-warding herbs, but it had only confused her more as her grandmother ushered her inside. There was another loud bang, this time from the backdoor past the mudroom.  “Stay here, and don’t make a sound. No matter what you hear, you stay inside and stay quiet!”

“What? Why-”

“Sloane,” she’d said, holding onto her face. “Do this. I’m going to protect you, but you have to stay quiet.”

“Protect me? From wh-” There was a slam against the door to the mudroom then and she gasped and shrank back in fear.

Her grandmother quickly pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, sweetheart. Whatever happens, remember that. I will love you always.” She pushed her in and closed the door, pulling the rolling butcher-block island they’d had in front to keep it closed and hidden. There was another loud bang-

Sloane slammed the door shut and sighed.

Nick was down a few minutes later and found her leaning against the column of the front porch. “Hey? Ready?”

She nodded and headed with him to the car, still rather quiet and subdued. Nick wasn’t sure what to say exactly, tapping his fingers against the door as they drove towards town. They had to slow however when there was a large crowd gathered near a side street, which was cordoned off with police tape. “What’s going on?”

“No idea…” Sloane said, frowning. She pulled into a parking space down the street and they got out to investigate. She walked over and wormed her way through to the front, Nick following her. She froze when she saw there was a tarp draped over what appeared to be a body near the dumpster in the alley. “What the hell? What happened?”

“A body was found early this morning…” an older woman said, looking anxious.

“A body? Here?” Sloane asked.

“I know!” she hissed. “Oh, God, I knew this would happen when they started developing this town. The crime rates starting to go up…”

Sloane glanced to Nick, who looked similarly surprised. “So…It wasn’t an accident?”

“Mr. Andrews said she was burned, but nothing around here was on fire…” one woman said. “Tim is still looking it all over.”

“Tim?”

“That would be Tim Grover,” a gruff voice said. They looked up to see a tall, thin, reedy man in a sheriff’s uniform walking over. He was older, with hair that was nearly completely gray and lines through his face. “Sheriff Tim Grover. Are you Sloane Larson?”

Sloane’s eyebrows ticked up but she nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“I’d like to talk to you. And your friend here.”

Nick frowned. “What about?”

“Just routine,” he said. “Can you come by the station?”

“Can we have breakfast first?” Sloane asked.

Grover smiled tightly but nodded. “Of course. Meet me at the station in an hour…Or I’ll come find you.”

Sloane stared him down until Nick gently tugged on her wrist to get her to move away with him. “I get the feeling murder doesn’t really happen here often…”

“Since what happened to my grandmother, I think there have only been maybe 3 suspicious deaths here in twenty years. And one of those, a body found where they thought someone tried to dump him in the lake, ended up being a guy who drank too much on New Year’s and thought he could swim it in subzero temperatures.”

“So someone showing up burned in an alley is definitely not normal…” She gave him a curious look and he shrugged. “I’d say it’s never normal, but it’s been a weird couple of years since I became a Grimm.”

She snorted a small laugh and led him down the sidewalk. “Yes, well, you learn all things are possible the longer you live sometimes…” She paused and glanced back. “…This could be wesen related I suppose too.”

“Here?”

“They are everywhere. I know there here because several who came the night my grandmother died used to live here. I knew most of them…”

That was surprising. He wondered how that felt, to have people in the town you grew up in kill someone you love and probably try to kill you too for no reason other than being what you were. “Oh…Well, um…I told you about that Daemonfeur I faced, do you think one is here?”

She shook her head, clearing it of the bad memories. “No…The area around the body would’ve been burned too. And even if the body was moved, the smell of burning flesh tends to linger.”

Nick grimaced. “Thanks for reminding me right before we eat…what else could do it then? I mean, it couldn’t be another Volcanalis right? Because I don’t know if we can get any liquid nitrogen here.”

“No, again, no burn smell or marks. So it’s possibly more of a chemical reaction.”

“Like…acid?” he asked, worried now.

She nodded slowly, not enthused by the idea either. “Yeah. I wish I could say that narrows it down as far as wesen…” She went into a little coffee shop, grabbing coffee and a Danish for herself and Nick got coffee and a large blueberry muffin. They ate quietly, not wanting to bring up Grimm things in close quarters where people could hear.

“Why do you think the sheriff wants to see us?” Nick asked once they were outside again.

“Not sure…But he let us go get food so I’m guessing it’s not pressing. I also want to know why he knew who I was.”

“Yeah, me too…I’m guessing word travels fast given that guy yesterday knew you too.”

Sloane hummed and headed through the down town till they got to a small, squat building with a sheriff decal over the large window in front. They walked inside, noting how small it really was. It looked like the station had about four police officers besides the sheriff at any one time, though most of the desks were empty. The receptionist at the front desk looked up when they walked in. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“The Sheriff asked us to come by. I’m Sloane Larson.”

“Oh yes, he just has a few questions for you…You can wait in his office, he should be back soon.” She pointed to the door to the side behind her and they walked in. It was a small office, lacking some of the charm of Renard’s big wooden desk and many windows out into the station. Just a simple desk, computer, a few bookshelves and files and a coffee machine on top of the bookshelf. And two chairs facing the desk, which they sat down in. There was a radio on the desk as well that was tuned into some country/bluegrass fiddling music.

“Our station looks like the pentagon compared to this,” Sloane said just loud enough for Nick to hear.

“Small town I guess. They’ll have to get more people than this if they want to expand though…”

“That’s part of the plan,” Sheriff Grover said behind them, making them both sit up straight. He came around and sat in his desk with a sigh. “Though I’ll probably be retired by then. I hope so at least, I don’t want to have to deal with all this anymore...”

“Has the crime rate gone up?” Sloane asked.

“No, not precisely. I just don’t want to be the one who has to keep the yuppies from doing stupid things when they come up.”

Sloane arched her eyebrows and glanced to Nick who didn’t know quite what to say either. “Um…well, you wanted to see me? Us?”

“Yes, I heard you came in yesterday…wanted to know what you were doing last night.”

Sloane narrowed her eyes suspiciously but shrugged. “We had dinner with Myriam Garcia and Jean Oberto. They’re old friends of my family.”

“Yes, I know them. Are you staying with them?”

“No. We had dinner and then we went to my gra…my house down here, where we’re staying. Number 1, Larson Lane.”

Nick glanced at her, not knowing that was the address. The Sheriff’s mouth quirked up. “Got a street named after you?”

“It’s a dirt road in the woods that leads to the house my grandfather built, the only house there. I didn’t name it,” she shrugged.

“Ah yes, your grandmother owned all that land up there…”

“I own it now if you’re trying to ask that,” she said, still suspicious.

“Good to know. So then, when did you two return home last night?”

“About 11:30 I think…” She looked at Nick.

“A little before, I called my girlfriend about 11:30 from the house.”

“Girlfriend?” he asked, looking between them like they’d revealed some incriminating piece of evidence. Or drama.

“He’s just a friend who’s come to help me sort through some of my grandmother’s things. His girlfriend is well aware he’s with me,” Sloane sighed.

“Oh…well, mighty nice of you then,” he said, somewhat disappointed.

“Yeah, anything for a friend,” Nick said, trying to give his best innocent smile. “Can I ask why you’re questioning us about last night though?”

“Well, as you saw this morning, we have a very suspicious death. Gotta ask the tough questions to everyone, including out-of-towners,” he said sagely.

“Did anyone see us or one of our cars in town last night?” Nick asked.

“Er…no, not that anyone has said.”

“Did anyone see us get into an argument with the victim?” Sloane asked.

“No…”

“Then I’m not sure why you’d think we did anything,” Sloane said.

“Hey, I’m the Sheriff here! I’ll ask the questions-” he started, still not rising from his seat but leveling a finger at them.

“Nick and I are detectives in Portland, Oregon,” Sloane said evenly.

“I…you are?” he paused, surprised.

“Yeah. We are. Homicide detectives to be more specific,” Nick said. “So we know what to look for as far as suspects. If nothing is pointing to us specifically, and we witnessed nothing or had no connection to the victim, there’s no real reason to question us here instead of just asking where we were this morning at the scene. Yet you picked us out specifically.”

“I…see. Yes, you’re right. Um, sorry about that, just…small town, you look at the strangers first.” Sloane wasn’t so sure about that and Nick looked rather dubious as well.

“What exactly happened anyway? Who was killed?” Sloane asked.

“If you don’t know, best I not tell you for now. Gotta keep things a little hush hush, see if the culprit will out himself somehow. Anyway, you two can go for now, but no leaving town.” He was agitated now, trying to get them out the door as he rose to show them out.

Sloane was a bit annoyed by the lack of information, and the sudden cut off when he’d been the one to call them in. Still, she didn’t want to start anything in the sheriff station. “Wasn’t planning on it,” Sloane said, standing. They were about to leave when she turned back. “Sheriff…how’d you know my name?”

“Hm?”

“My name. I only told one person my name since I got here, besides Myriam and Jean knowing me already, but you’re the second guy who’s known me by name.”

The sheriff smiled. “We’re still a small town at the moment, Miss Larson. Word travels fast.”

Sloane narrowed her eyes but nodded. “Okay then…” She shuffled into her pocket and pulled out a card. “If you need some help, Nick and I focus on murder back in Portland. We can always be consultants for you.”

The Sheriff gave a very tight smile as he took the card. “That’s very kind of you…”

Sloane had a feeling she’d hit a nerve but nodded. “Have a nice day then.”

Nick nodded to him as they headed out and back out of the station, walking back to the car. “That was…”

“Not what you’d expect from a professional homicide investigation?” she guessed.

“Definitely not…”

“Eh. He probably doesn’t get them very often. Part of why I offered to consult.”

“Was that why? I thought you were trying to give him a dig about being more experienced than him.”

“Eh…maybe a little,” she smirked. Nick chuckled and Sloane sighed and stretched. “But we can’t do anything right now. If something else happens we can try to get in on it. Let’s hit the supermarket for food and head back to start sorting through stuff.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

\--------------------

Sheriff Grover watched the two out of towners leave, sighing a little. He grimaced when he heard another door in the station open and Midgley walked into his office, closing the door. “You just let them go?” he asked, irritated.

“They’re law from another state,” Grover said simply.

“So? Is it the thin blue line stopping you?”

“Not exactly. They know the law, and they’re detectives. We can’t rail road them like a couple of yokels, they’d figure out pretty quickly it was you or someone else trying to put the pressure on them to wipe their hands with this town. We point fingers at them without evidence, they’re going to call our bluff or worse, lawyer up and get this as a federal case. You want the FBI coming in here and snooping around?”

Midgley sneered but sighed. “I feel that’s a worst case scenario for us and you’re just excusing not trying harder, but you do have a point. We’ll figure something else out then.”

“That won’t involve another body? I can’t keep cleaning up your messes,” Grover said.

Midgley glared and suddenly came in close to Grover’s face, making the Sheriff tense. “Given everything we’ve done for you and you’ve done for us these last few years, I think you better hope there’s no such investigation. Or the next body will be yours.” He woged, his pincers dripping in acid already from his agitation. A little landed on the carpet and the soft fibers smoked from the impact.

Grover woged, his skin turning green and his eyes turning large and compounded. The front of his face smoothed out with green skin while the back of his head became wider like a helmet. Two antennae flicking around anxiously. “Okay, Okay! I get it!” he said.

Midgley woged back and grabbed a tissue from the desk to wipe his mouth with a disdained look. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend. You better hope Mrs. Hill will be in a forgiving mood this morning. She wasn’t last night when it came to Emily Fielding.” He tossed the tissue on the desk, the residual acid eating away at it already.

Grover changed back and glared after him, making sure he was well out of earshot before muttering. “Monkey suit wearing jerk…”

\---------------------------

Sloane and Nick arrived back at her grandmother’s house to find the driveway and walk up to the front porch had been salted and swept for them. Sloane knew it’d likely been Mim and was grateful they could walk easily with all their groceries up to the front door. Most of what they got was easy fix stuff that wouldn’t require too much time in the kitchen, and Nick didn’t bring that up. They put things away, putting the plastic groceries bags all together in a pile to use as possible packing materials.

“Okay…ready to get to work?”

“Yep,” Nick agreed.

Sloane took out the key from its hiding place again and opened the basement door, pulling it back with a slight grunt. It stayed open and she gestured for Nick to go down first. “Age before beauty.”

Nick snorted and moved down the stairs. He slowed as he came to the bottom, eyes widening. “Whoa…this is…a lot of stuff.” The whole basement was lined with chests, cabinets and shelves. It was like two of Aunt Marie’s trailers worth of stuff down there, maybe more.

“Of course,” she said, smiling proudly. “My grandmother had collected things for years and brought them back here. And my mother brought some things back as well, so we have a large collection.”

“So your mother is a Grimm? You don’t talk about her much,” Nick asked.

 “I talk about her enough…” she said, the smiling diminishing a little. “Bringing something to add was about the only reason she only ever came back here…”

Nick frowned a little and decided not to press for details. He had a feeling that was a sensitive subject. “Well…where should we begin?”

Sloane went back to business and walked over to a cupboard with glass doors. “Books I think. These are the oldest ones. I’m not sure we should move them given their age, but we can at least go through them and copy and useful information.”

“…By hand?”

She looked over at him and arched her eyebrows with a smirk. “Afraid of a little studying?”

Nick smirked back a little more wanly. “More like I’m afraid of carpal tunnel.”

Sloane actually laughed at that. “I’ll teach you some hand exercises. Or…I could just break out the computer scanner I brought. It’s a hand held.”

“You bought that just for this trip?” Nick asked in surprise.

“Yeah. It’ll be quicker and we won’t have to agonize over the handwriting and stuff, can come back to them later.”

Nick smiled. “Smart.”

“I know,” she said proudly. “ ‘Prepare today for what you’ll need tomorrow’, that’s what Oma used to say. I’ll set it up, and you can go through them while I look over other stuff.”

Nick pouted. “I feel like I’ve been set up…”

“You offered to come,” she pointed out, gently piling the books. “C’mon, you can put on some music and I’ll make something to drink before I head back down…provided you keep it far from the books,” she said warningly.

Nick smiled and helped carry the books up. Sloane went upstairs and grabbed the scanner and a very small computer with an external hard drive set up. She showed him how it worked, having tested it on a couple of her own books before they left Portland the week before. She then brewed some hot tea and left it for him before heading back down stairs. Nick was actually having a good time scanning the books, seeing the old pictures and entries. There were only about five books, but scanning them was indeed much easier than trying to meticulously read through and take notes. He did get distracted now and then reading certain passages, making a mental note of the more interesting things.

“You hungry?”

Nick jumped and looked up over the top of the couch at her. “Uh…yeah actually.”

“I figured, it’s going on one. You making progress?”

“Yeah, I just keep finding interesting stuff. Like this thing, a _ban síde_.” He showed her the passage he was on, the figure of a crying woman on the illustration. Her face was long and stretched down and there were raw looking tracts of tears from her eyes.

“Ah,” she said knowingly. “Better known as a Banshee by most people.”

“That’s what I was thinking!” he said with a smile. “It said that they can sense death approaching and will give this wailing cry, but it can also kill people? Is it like a Murciélago, that wesen that emits a sonic screech I told you about?”

“Not exactly. Their cry can go high enough shatter glass, but it’s actually a much deeper sound that doesn’t cause anything to rupture or anything like that you have to worry about. It’s more that it causes paralysis and hallucinations. It’s like…having a night terror but you’re awake. You can’t move, you’re stuck and seeing some weird shit happening.”

“That sounds creepy…”

“A bit yeah. Like it says, they can also predict death with pretty good accuracy, it’s why old families used to take them into their home, to try and sense the danger before anyone died. Didn’t always work though, and sometimes the Banshees were more than likely the ones responsible. There’s some theories among Grimms they somehow feed off of death, maybe a chemical released in death or the like.”

“Even creepier to be honest…”

Sloane hummed in agreement, looking more at the book. “I remember parts of that book,” she said. “Lots of wesen and creatures from around Ireland, Wales, Scotland and Britain from an ancestor of mine back in the 1400s. May not run into them here, but not bad to have them on file for sure. Anyway, break for lunch?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Sandwich from the store?” she said, already heading for the kitchen.

“Ham and Swiss for me.”

Sloane nodded and brought the sandwich over along with a soda. “I’ve found a few things that might be handy to have. Also…having to toss some stuff. Lots of herb stores are rotten or gone, and I think the poisons are off too.”

“Poisons can go off?” Nick asked, taking a bite.

“Oh yeah, though it depends on the poison. Given most of what we have is old school, herby ingredient type stuff, it’s probably not effective anymore. It’s funny, but some poisons become weaker with age, and other things become more poisonous with age. But a lot of this stuff would make you sick instead of kill you.”

“Can you not say ‘you’ right now when I’m eating?”

“Oh come on, I think we’ve established if I wanted to kill you I’d be more direct about it,” she smirked, taking a bite of her own sandwich. Nick rolled his eyes but smiled a little. He was getting used to Sloane’s sense of humor.

They were just finishing up eating when her phone rang and she picked it up. “Don’t recognize this number, but it’s the area code here…” She answered. “Hello?”

“Miss Sloane Larson?” a smooth feminine voice asked.

“Speaking…” she said hesitantly.

“My name is Noelle Hill. I’m the CEO of Summer Bridge Development.”

Sloane’s eyebrows ticked up. “Oh? Well…How did you get my number?” Nick gave her a questioning look and she mouthed “Summer Bridge” at him. He frowned, also wondering how they’d gotten that number.

“I asked around,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you quite badly.”

“Regarding my land I imagine,” Sloane sighed. “I haven’t really had time to look over that stuff your man from yesterday gave me, but I can go ahead and tell you I’m not really interested in selling.”

“I understand, I’m just hoping for a chance to speak with you in person to at least make an offer. You don’t put the land to much use, or that house. According to those I’ve spoken to, you haven’t even been in Wildred in three years after all.”

Sloane frowned more. “I’m not sure I appreciate how much you know about me when I know nothing about you…”

“I apologize,” she said, though she sounded amused. “I like to be prepared and gather as much information as I can on my potential projects, including who I’d be buying resources from. Please, let’s meet and at least discuss what we both want for the future of this town.”

Sloane sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Alright, fine, if just to get some peace. I’d rather do it tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. Shall we say meeting for lunch? Maybe Maggio’s, this nice place that’s opened up-”

“I’d prefer just meeting for coffee at the Redline, around 10. I’ll pay for mine.”

There was a pause before Ms. Hill spoke up again. “I see you know just what you want. Very well. Ten o’ clock at the Redline then.”

“See you then.” She hanged up.

“What’s that about?” Nick asked, having finished his sandwich while he listened.

“The head honcho of Summer Bridge wants to talk,” still glaring at the phone.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, to get me to sell the land.”

“Which I’m thinking is not going to happen?”

“Hell no. I was tempted to get a free meal out of it, but I’m not letting her even try to make me feel obliged. As if she could. But I’m already sick of them getting in my business.”

Nick smiled. “Need back up?”

“Nah, I think I can handle it. I trust you with working on getting more stuff together tomorrow while I’m out.”

Nick was somewhat surprised. When she said trust, he knew she meant it since this was her family legacy she was talking about. “Can do,” he said with a smile. Sloane smiled back and finished up her own sandwich before cleaning up.

Nick managed to finish scanning the rest of the books into the hard drive by the end of the day. Sloane had in the meantime brought up several dozen more to go through the next day to decide if they were worth bringing along. They locked the old books back up and were just about to consider what to have for dinner when her phone rang.

“Mim’s number. They might want us for dinner again.”

“I’m fine with that, they’re great cooks.”

Sloane smiled and answered. “Aunt Mim?”

“Hey there, kiddo. We were just seeing if you two were hungry after a day of hard work. I’ve been cooking tamales and pulled brisket for tacos all afternoon, along with Mexican rice and good old fashioned beans.”

She smiled and looked at Nick. “You like tamales, brisket tacos, rice, and beans?”

Nick’s stomach was already growling. “You may have to roll me out of the house when I’m done.”

Sloane chuckled and turned her attention back to the phone. “We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Great. Don’t forget to lock up though, including the gate.”

“Will do. See you soon.” She hanged up and they grabbed their coats, setting the alarm and locking everything up before heading down the road again.

Dinner was again delicious, Jean and Mim pouring out plenty of wine for them too before switching over to the dark, fruity tea they made to avoid a buzz. They asked about being detectives and Nick and Sloane related toned down, wesen-free versions of some of the cases. Sloane also made up how she’d entered the police force a couple of years ago and managed to test up into being a detective relatively quickly thanks to some loopholes she found. Mim and Jean in return related a few newsworthy things that had happened over the years in town, though it was comparatively tame. Once done eating they went to the living room to rest for a bit on the overstuffed couches.

“That sauce you made for the tacos was amazing…” Nick sighed. “I better be careful or I’m going to go back heavier than when I came.”

“Old family recipe,” Mim said with a smile. “If you want to come over tomorrow its Jean’s turn to cook. She makes a mean pork roast.”

“Oh God, the one stewed in apples in the crock pot?” Sloane groaned lightly. “Oh, I haven’t had that in so long, it’s so good…” The two women smiled at the anticipation already in her voice.

“So, how has sorting through your grandmother’s things been going?”

Sloane paused just a moment before smiling. “Interesting. We keep getting a little distracted by the little things we find.”

“I can imagine,” Jean said with a sad smile. “Are you bringing things down from the attic?”

Nick glanced at Sloane, surprised to know there were some things in the attic as well. Sloane just smiled. “Working our way up right now. Like I said, little distractions here and there. And we got kind of a late start after going into town…”

“Why’s that?”

“There was a murder,” Nick said without thinking. Sloane cast him an annoyed glance and he smiled sheepishly.

“Oh yes…” Jean said sadly. “I’d heard about that…Poor Emily Fielding. You were in grade school with her once upon a time.”

Sloane paused and put her tea down. “Did she work at the Redline?”

“Yes! Had worked there ever since coming back. Tried to make a go of it in San Diego, didn’t work out.”

“Nice girl,” Mim sighed.

“We talked to her yesterday at the diner when we came in…” Sloane said slowly.

“The waitress,” Nick nodded. “She’s the one that told us about Summer Bridge coming here and some of the weird stuff going on with it.”

Mim narrowed her eyes. “Hmmm…”

“Mim, no,” Jean said, putting a hand on hers. “It’s probably just a coincidence…”

“Too many “coincidences” in this town lately,” Mim grumbled.

Sloane frowned, not liking it either. “Do either of you know anything else about Emily? Or what happened?”

“You’re the detectives, aren’t you?” Mim said.

“We’re out of our jurisdiction,” Nick said. “And Grover called us in to question us, but we didn’t get much about what happened out of it.”

“Why’d he want to question you?” Jean asked.

“Apparently he thought unfamiliar faces more suspicious than anyone local,” Sloane said.

Mim snorted but Jean sighed. “I heard from Sharon Rathbone, one of the shop ladies, that she was found very early this morning, in an alley a few blocks from where she lived. Between the bank and the drug store.”

“That’s where the crowd was gathered…” Sloane nodded.

“Mr. Andrews found her when he went to open up the store according to Sharon. She could hear him screaming from her own store a block away. He called the police first thing, but people over heard…he said she’d been burned. But not like with fire, she wasn’t…”

“Charred,” Mim supplied, morose as well. “Not sure what could burn without _burning_ …It’s not the first time though.” She looked at Sloane meaningfully. The lock from the other day had been the same way.

Sloane was quiet a moment before glancing at Nick. He looked back at her, remembering discussing this before. Acid had been their possibly conclusion, but it raised a lot of other questions and concerns.

“Sloane? Everything alright?” Jean asked.

“No, yeah,” she said, trying to smile. “Um, we should probably think about getting back though, before it’s too late.”

Jean pouted but nodded, helping them with their coats. “Drive safe.”

“And lock up when you get back,” Mim added. Jean frowned at her, perhaps not liking her paranoia about the locks, but nodded.

“We will.” Sloane opened the door but then paused and looked back. “Actually, I forgot. I’m meeting with the CEO of Summer Bridge tomorrow.”

“You what?!” Mim barked.

“Calm down, I just want to get it out of the way so I don’t keep getting uninvited calls or guests. Anyway, I want to know what you think on it.”

“We’d be here all night if I really went into it. Hold on.” She walked down the hallway to another room and return just a few seconds later holding a proposal much like the one given to Sloane except obviously marked up in red pen. “Here. This is all the bullshit I’ve been able to outline from what information was in that “proposal” and other places. Put my old engineering masters to good use.”

Sloane took it and glanced over the red lined pages. “Wow. Didn’t go easy on them, huh?”

“Of course not. But read it and you’ll better understand why I don’t trust these corporate suits as far as I can throw them.”

“I’ll read it tonight then, thanks. Goodnight.” She and Nick headed out to the car and started it up, driving back in the ice and snow towards the white house.

“It’s like what we were talking about earlier,” Nick said. “You think a wesen might be what killed this girl? Something that has acid?”

“It makes the most sense. Acid isn’t a popular murder weapon, this isn’t the sort of place you’d normally have a chemical attack either…But I still know about ten possible wesen species that could do it.”

“Great…” He sighed. “But if there is an acid spitting wesen killing people, I’d rather not leave without stopping it.”

Sloane smiled a bit. “Agreed…but for now, we should sleep. In the morning we can check town again, see if we find anything.”

“Sounds good…do we need to go through stuff in the attic before we leave though?”

Sloane hesitated but shook her head. “No Grimm stuff up there, just normal family items…”

“…And you don’t want any of those?” he asked as sensitively as he could.

“…It’s not a fun place to go up to.”

“Really? Why?”

“…My grandfather committed suicide up there,” she said quietly. “He hanged himself.”

“Oh…I…I’m sorry,” Nick said, his gut twisting a little.

“It’s okay,” she sighed. “I never knew him, it was way before I was born. My mother was still a teenager. I didn’t even find out till I was a teenager. But…it’s always kind of felt like a sad place. Oma had trouble going up there sometimes and I wondered why. I went up there once, curious, and went through some of the stuff there. Old jewelry, books, clothes…She got upset at me for it and made me promise not to go up there alone again. If it weren’t for the fact she had nowhere else to go and had all her things there, and later me, I wonder sometimes if she’d have stayed in this house…”

Nick looked at her sympathetically and then forward as they came up to the gate. Sloane got out to unlock it and Nick stared up to the top window of the house. First her grandfather then her grandmother, both taken in sudden volatile ways, certainly made the once charming house much more morose.

They got back inside and he texted Juliette that he’d had a full day of Grimm stuff and was heading to bed before going to wash up and laid down to go to sleep.

In the morning, Sloane had breakfast and started work with him, showing him some of what she found the other day as well. Nick’s favorite thing was a three tiered crossbow. Entirely impractical in an on-going fight, but certainly fun. Around 9:30 she left to head back down to the diner. Inside she was surprised to see there were only two people there: An olive-skinned woman with dark hair trimmed into a very business savvy bob sitting at a booth and a boy of about seventeen sitting at the counter playing on his phone. The woman waved to her with a polite smile. “Miss Larson?”

Sloane nodded and walked over, sitting across from her. “I’m surprised how empty this place is…”

“Yes, I asked we be allowed some privacy. Aside from my son, Jasper,” she gestured at the teen. With his headphones in, he apparently didn’t even hear his name. “He’s still free from school for Christmas break and I don’t like him staying in his room all day. We’ll be doing a little bonding after this.”

“Sounds nice,” Sloane said. A waitress came out and delivered them two cups of coffee and pots of cream and sugar. She seemed intent to keep her head down and get out of the way as soon as possible. Sloane didn’t comment and starting fixing her coffee with just a little cream and sugar. She arched her eyebrows when she noted Ms. Hill put three sugar packets into her cup.

“I like sweet things. Surprising I’m told,” she said with a smile.

“To each their own,” Sloane said. “I read that proposal last night.”

“Oh? And what do you think?”

“Sounds nice. The designs are certainly pretty.”

She smiled more. “Well, our architects are extremely talented.”

“Obviously. You apparently want the whole of the land around the hills though. Over 2,000 acres of woodland just for this one building?”

“We’d want to create some trails and such through the woods. Nature hikes and the like would be a wonderful opportunity for visitors and locals alike.” Sloane hummed in agreement. “You would also of course be well compensated for your land.” She reached into her business portfolio and pulled out a contract, handing it over to Sloane. “Highlighted here.”

Sloane took it and looked at the contract before huffing a little. “I-wow…I will admit, that’s generous.”

Mrs. Hill smiled. “I’m glad to see you’re a bit more open. Ms. Garcia has been…resistant. I was also hoping perhaps I could talk to you about getting her to relax a bit, maybe meet with me as well-”

Sloane offered the contract back, surprising her. “I think you’re misunderstanding, Ms. Hill. I’m still not selling to you.”

Ms. Hill paused and her smile turned tight. “Oh? I thought meeting together and reading the proposal meant you were at least open to the idea…”

“I read it so I could tell you I did and I still don’t want to do it. That land has been my family since the turn of the century. My great-grandfather bought it, and my grandfather was the one to develop it.”

“A family legacy? You want to keep their memory alive?”

“Hardly. I know nothing about great-grandpa and grandfather died before I was born,” she said blasé.

“So you want to keep it for yourself?”

“Kind of. I’m with Ms. Garcia. We’ll see about getting the areas away from our houses named a National Park, build proper trails then, and anyone coming is free to enjoy them without the need to clear and strip a large area for a giant lodge.”

“It’s just a community center-”

“I’ve traveled the world, Ms. Hill. I know a lodge when I see it, and having a community center in the hills makes no sense. That should be where the people are, in town, not up in the middle of the woods more than half an hour outside of town. I also know Ms. Garcia is a former architectural engineer with a lot of experience in getting land ready for construction and knows these proposals are missing a lot of vital information. I called and asked because she’s been a family friend since before I was born. That might have something to do with why she doesn’t trust you. And frankly, I don’t either.”

Ms. Hill’s smile fell and she narrowed her eyes. “I guess I underestimated the two of you. Here I was thinking you were just some small town girl coming back with your tail between your legs after being out in the big world, and that she was just some aging butch who hunted squirrels in the woods.”

Sloane smiled tightly back and didn’t miss the flash of regret that Miss Hill had in saying the words out loud. “You need to work on your poker face. It’s much too easy to get under your skin,” Sloane said, drinking the cup of coffee down. “I think we’re done here.” She stood. “I don’t want any more calls from Summer Bridge, and that goes double for you.”

“I don’t give up on anything, Miss Larson,” she said darkly.

“And you really don’t want to cross me, Ms. Hill,” she shot back, not turning around as she headed back out the door.

Jasper pulled his earbud out, having been listening in. “That didn’t go well…”

“No, it did not…” Noelle sighed, standing. “I had hoped this would be easier…Your grandmother was much better at setting up her colony, I don’t seem to have that same charm…”

“It’s okay, mom. You just need to keep putting pressure on them.”

“Oh we will,” she said, watching Sloane drive off through the window. “One way or another.” Jasper also watched her go, nodding slowly.

\----------------------

Nick sighed, stretching a bit. It was hard to focus this morning. Being alone in the big house was giving his mind too much room to wander. Standing, he made his way upstairs to check his phone that was still plugged in. No messages. Even more boring.

Putting the phone back down, he paused in the hallway. There was his room—the guest room—and the master suite at the end of the hall, the bathroom between those doors and there was one more door. Curiosity was rising since Sloane hadn’t mentioned anything about this other room. He hesitated, unsure if he should pry, but walked over to try the knob. It turned easily, not locked, and he took a breath before opening it. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting—more weapons? A library?—but it wasn’t a child’s room.

It was like walking back into his own childhood in some ways. While the room was definitely more geared towards a young girl, he recognized several things he had or his friends had back in the 80s and early 90s. The bed was a white four-post bed with a matching nightstand and bookshelf. The bedspread was faded, and dusty, but he could tell it was a light blue with pink and orange flowers all over it. There was a stuffed rabbit propped up against the pillows that looked very old and lonely. The lamp on the bedside table was an old brass looking lamp with a white shade, an old alarm clock that had stopped ticking over a decade ago probably next to it with Mickey Mouse on it. There was a shelf with some Barbies and My Little Ponies and other stuffed animals on the wall next to the window with lacy white curtains. The bookshelf had a lot of kids’ books that he remembered: _Goosebumps, The Boxcar Children, The Bailey School Kids,_ and more.

Nick walked just a little further, looking around like he was in a museum. When he got to a small desk in the corner—white topped with bright primary colors for the legs—he broke most every museum rule and pushed a at a couple of papers there to see what they were. In childish scrawl, he saw _Sloane Larson_ , written out and what looked like homework from elementary school.

And just like that, he felt unwelcome now. This was Sloane’s childhood room, kept persevered since she left just like much of the rest of the house. It’s like the room was still waiting for a 9 year-old to come back up to finish her homework and go to bed and having him there was just a disappointment. She had a normal life once. She was just a little girl, and then she’d been pushed into this world that was too adult, too terrifying for a girl that lived here to be a part of.

He heard a car pull up outside and glanced out the window. Sloane was back already. Quickly he got back out of the room and closed the door behind him, heading back downstairs.

She walked through the door to see Nick packing a box full of books. “Hey. How’d it go?” he asked, trying not to let anything slip to show he’d seen too much.

“About as well as telling a type A I’m not going to go along with their plan can go when you’re in a public place.”

“So tense?” he guessed.

“Very. What about you?”

“Made some good packing progress for the books and equipment.”

She smiled as she took off her jacket and draped it over the couch. “Thanks. You’ve…been a big help.”

Nick smiled back, trying not to feel guilty. “Happy to be of service.”

Sloane sighed and got back to work with him, now and then flipping through and showing him some of the more interesting things she’d encountered herself or remembered from the books. They broke for lunch, got right back to work, and then went back to Mim and Jean’s for dinner. The pot roast was as delicious as promised and Mim enjoyed Sloane telling her about meeting with CEO of Summer Bridge. They returned and Nick called Juliette, updating her on a little of what happened.

“Sounds like you’re having a good time,” Juliette said.

“Pretty good, yeah. I mean, not saying Mim and Jean’s food have been the highlight of the day, but they certainly make it worth driving down there at night.”

Juliette chuckled. “I’ll see if I can look up any recipes like that then. But what about this murder?”

“We don’t know. We can’t exactly get in on the autopsy or anything like that, and it’s not our jurisdiction. I think Sloane wants to figure it out, but it’s not easy when Mim and Jean and everyone else here are not on the whole Grimm wavelength. Or at the very least she doesn’t want them to be.”

“Is that what made it hard for you before I knew?” she asked softly.

“A bit, yeah…Mostly I just didn’t want to scare you or get you caught up in something dangerous. Too late now I guess…” he added quietly.

“I’ll be alright, Nick. I’m not going to run away screaming, at least not at all I’ve seen so far. And I’ve seen some pretty scary stuff so far.”

Nick smiled. “Yeah, you’ve been great…”

“Glad you noticed.”

“I always notice how great you are, I’m just usually to speechless in awe to say anything.”

Juliette laughed and he was grateful he could make her laugh again. “You better get to bed, Casanova.”

“Right. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She hanged up and Nick smiled to himself, laying back to sleep.

In the middle of the night they were woken up by the sound of glass breaking and the house alarm suddenly going off. Nick Sprang upright in bed, feeling his heart literally stop a moment and his skin growing cold. Closing his eyes, he breathed and quickly got back under control as he heard Sloane’s door open and her feet quickly running across the wood. He was out of bed and out of the room just as she was at the top of the stairs. “Sloane!”

She was down them before he could stop her and he raced down after her. He heard the sound of a struggle and came down in time to see Sloane grappling with a man dressed all in black with a ski mask on his head and a crowbar in his hand. He was trying to strike her with it he realized and Sloane was holding that arm by the wrist to keep it from hitting her. She caught his other hand when he tried to punch her, digging her feet into the hardwood floors as he tried to push her away. Nick was behind him in a second, wrapping his arm around his neck in a sleeper hold and pulling him back. Sloane dug her nails into his wrist and he gave a strangled shout as he dropped the crowbar. He did managed to kick out and knock her away though, and in that second he pulled up the bottom of his mask. His mouth changed into a pair of pincers and he bit down on Nick’s arm. Nick shouted as he felt a searing pain across his skin and he let go, stumbling away.

“Nick?!” Sloane said, worry in her voice.

“He’s wesen!” he yelled. His arm was burning, something smelled like a chemical tang or vomit. He breathed deep and felt his heart starting to slow rather than speed up, his skin turning white again. He wanted glared at the figure in black and growled. The burglar froze a moment before cursing and rushing back out the now busted window he’d opened. That surprised him enough he snapped out of it. “He’s getting away!”

“Nick, let me see your arm!” She turned on the light and pulled Nick’s arm to her before he could fight her. His shirt was actually smoking slightly, two holes slowly being eaten away in the fabric. “Shit!” She reached up and suddenly ripped his shirt open down the middle.

“Sloane, what the-”

“You have acid on you, idiot, take off your shirt before it keeps burning you!” That got his attention and Nick quickly did as he was told, throwing the shirt over to the side. She grabbed his arm again to look at the damage to his skin. There was a nasty, blistering welt forming almost five inches long across his forearm and Nick could still feel his nerves on fire around it. “We need to treat this, now! C’mon!” She grabbed his other arm and pulled him toward the stairs.

“But that guy-” Nick started.

“Was a rank amateur, we’ll track him down easily enough. But first and foremost we need to make sure whatever that is doesn’t keep eating at your skin.”

Nick swallowed and nodded. “How do we do that?”

“You need to take a shower. Twenty minutes, under the water. Make it room temperature, not cold or hot,” she rattled off, pulling him upstairs.

Nick nodded again, cradling his arm and letting her push him into the bathroom. They heard her phone go off in her bedroom and she left him alone, closing the door. He quickly undressed and got in, hissing at the water on the burn but letting it wash over it. After a few minutes it didn’t hurt quite as badly, though it was still very red and blistered. He continued till there was a knock at the door.

“Nick? You should be okay now. Get your pants back on and I’ll bandage you up. Mim and Jean got the alert from the alarm system, they’re on their way. I already hid the books and anything else back down in the basement to be safe.”

“Okay,” He called. He turned off the water and carefully dried off, patting the raw area dry as gingerly as possible. He then pulled his boxers and pajama pants back on. “I’m decent.”

Sloane opened the door, bandages and a jar of her salve in her arms. She had him sit on the toilet while she looked it over. “Not as bad as I first thought,” she said, sounding relieved. “The salve should heal it in a few days without a scar.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said.

“It’s going to sting though.”

“I can take it, don’t worr-eeeee!” The last part was a slight squeal and grunt as some of the salve was applied, feeling like someone was running the point end of an icicle through the melted skin.

“Warned you,” she said, though she didn’t sound gloating. More like she was upset this had happened to him. She then carefully started wrapping the wound in gauze and bandages. “You almost…changed.”

“Yeah…” he said, sighing. “I…can control it sometimes, but when I want to fight…”

Sloane sighed. “I get that. I think I got a look at half his face at least when he bit you…”

“Know what he is then?”

“If I’m right, that guy was an Enxame Vermelho, if you pardon me butchering Portuguese. But that’s bad because where there is one, there is never just one.”

“So…he has a family? Like those Gelumcaedus we fought?” Nick asked.

“Worse. Their name literally means Red Swarm. They can live in colonies of multiple families of up to 100 members, maybe even more.”

Nick’s jaw dropped. “A…a hundred?!”

“Yeah. They’re social creatures who need to have strong ties between them, but all centered around a central matriarch: the queen. Strongest female in the colony.”

“Kind of like Mellifers?” he asked.

“A bit, but even more in need of being together. They usually live together in commune like places, and are pretty industrious. They also have the ability to produce a powerful acid in their mouths.”

“Yeah, noticed that…” He flexed his hand a little when she finished the bandaged, breathing through the sharp pain. “How do we fight a hundred people though?”

“I don’t know…The only time I’ve ever faced them was in a kind of group blitz attack when I was younger. It happened really fast and I was mostly in the back…” she admitted. There was the sound of a car pulling up outside and Sloane stood. “Go put a shirt back on, we don’t want Mim and Jean getting suspicious of just what attacked us.”

“Right.” He stood and went back to his room, mind turning over the new information. This was potentially going to be a rough week if they had to deal with a hundred acid spitting, bitey wesen.

“What the hell is going on?! The alarm went off on my phone, the gate’s chain was broken, your window is broken-” He could hear Mim shouting from upstairs and he quickly headed downstairs.

“Someone tried to break in, we scared him off,” Sloane said, trying to calm her down.

“They what?!”

“We’re okay, Nick got a bad scratch on his arm but that’s it as far as injuries.”

“I hope you mean to yourself! You better have done something to that guy!”

“Calm down,” Jean said, trying to hold on to her arm. “You can’t get too worked up, Mimsy!”

Sloane sighed. “He got away, but we’re going to call the sheriff and look around—”

“That sheriff is useless! I’ll find him!” She pulled out of Jean’s grip and bolted out the door surprisingly quick.

“Mim!” Jean yelled after her, starting for the door as well.

“Aunt Mim! Mim! Myriam!” Sloane moved to go out after her but had to back track and find her shoes first, cursing under her breath at the cold biting her feet.

“You should get dressed first, it’s cold out there,” Nick said.

“I’ll be alright—”

“You’re in flannel pajamas. Warm in here, but not enough out there. I’ll get dressed too and call the sheriff and we’ll find her before she finds this guy, keep the peace. But dealing with shivering is going to slow us down.”

Sloane huffed but nodded, and bolted upstairs. Nick followed, quickly calling the Sherriff’s office on his phone. “Wildred Sheriff’s office.”

“Hi, I’d like to report a break in. 1 Larson road. Suspect bolted when we confronted him.”

“Alright, we’ll have someone out there right away. Is anyone injured?”

“Nothing major, but we have someone who’s gone after him.” He heard Sloane’s quick, booted footsteps rush past his room and he cursed as he tried to get his jeans on one handed. “And I think my friend just went after her!”

“Sir, you should stay put until help arrives.”

“I know that, but I can’t leave them out there alone either!” he said, grabbing his jacket and moving to head down. “Someone will be here, just get over.” He hanged up as he got outside.

Jean was still on the front porch, looking out towards the dark woods worriedly. “Sloane rushed out before I could stop her, I don’t know where Mim could be or what to do…”

“Just wait here, the police are on their way. I’ll find them.” He was down the stairs before she could say anything, running to the tree line.

\------------------------

Sloane pulled her gloves on as she walked around the woods, eyes roving around. “Aunt Mim? Where are you? We should head back!” She didn’t hear an answer and cursed again. Opening up her senses, she tried to listen for someone else walking through the underbrush. She managed to pin point a sound a few yards ahead and rushed towards it.

“You red son of a bitch, I should’ve known!” Mim’s voice carried over.

“Stay out of this, grandma.”

“What, they sent a runt like you to try and do something to Sloane? Ha! Your queen must be off her rocker!”

Sloane slowed and frowned at the words passing between them. She finally had them in sight, Mim cornering the Enxame Vermelho that had broken into their house somehow. The would-be burglar must’ve come through the woods to avoid being spotted but got turned around heading back. They were squaring off and he had his balaclava off, revealing a young face of someone maybe only in his late teens or early twenties with sandy hair and freckles. It took Sloane a moment to place the face, but she remembered he was there with Noelle Hill earlier that day. Her son, Jasper.

“You shut your mouth! Or I’ll melt more than a lock!”

Mim glared. “So you broke into Jean’s workshop too? Bring it on then, you little shit.”

Sloane tensed and then rushed out, getting between them. “Mim! Stop it! You can’t fight him!”

Mim stared at her in shock. “Sloane, you don’t know what’s going on here—”

“I’ve pieced together quite a bit actually, so please, go back to the house.”

She heard the Enxame Vermelho move to her side and turned back. “That goes for you too.”

He glared at her and then suddenly woged, his pincers opened wide. “Sloane, down!” Mim yelled, grabbing her before she could react on her own.  A glob of acid was spit at where Sloane’s chest used to be, but Mim’s surprisingly strong pull got her out of the way with a stumble against a tree.

“Aunt Mim, don’t-” Sloane’s words died in her throat as Mim woged, black fur growing over her face and neck, her teeth elongating and her nose flattening out. She roared like a bear at the insectoid wesen and rushed him, throwing him into a tree with a swipe like a steel girder swinging into him. He crumpled to the ground and de-woged, out like a light. Sloane’s eyes were still glued to Mim, her instincts and schooling shouting at her to draw her weapon while the knowledge that it was Mim was still too shocking.

Mim turned to her, the expression on her animal-like face morphing from rage to anxious realization as she woged back. “Sloane…”

“You’re…a Jägerbar?” she asked shakily.

Mim swallowed but nodded slowly. “I am…”

Sloane felt like the world was tilting and put a hand out to the tree next to her. “I…but…I-I’ve known you all my life…”

“I’ve been very diligent in hiding it from you,” Mim breathed out. She coughed a little, clearing her throat. “Woging is a little rough on me at my age too…Though not as rough as it was for him,” she said, trying to smile.

Sloane was shaking her head slowly. “You were friends with my grandmother…how? My grandmother was a Grimm too! I’m a Grimm!”

“I know…” Mim said gently.

“You know?!”

“Yes. I knew your grandmother so well, Sloane, of course I knew she was a Grimm. But she was still my friend…sometimes like a mother to me. And I am well aware of what I am. And what Jean is…”

Sloane swallowed thickly, feeling so many things—confusion, betrayal, anger, more confusion, her instincts clawing at her to fight but this was _Mim_ , her Aunt Mim—that she felt ill. “Jean…Jean too?”

“Yes…but not a Jägerbar. She—”

“All this time…I thought you were both human and in the dark…” Sloane said quietly, trying to control her breathing.

“That’s what your grandmother wanted,” Mim said, trying to inch towards her. “There was always a chance you wouldn’t have inherited, that you’d be able to grow up as just a regular child. If that was true, she didn’t want you to have to know about this world. We were away when you got your powers and…when Rebekah died. And Deirdre took you,” she said the last part bitterly. “I knew she’d raise you to hate us…Jean did too. We didn’t know how to tell you when we saw you again, sixteen but already so…so obviously a hunter like her and not your grandmother.”

“What do you know about my grandmother?!” she shouted. It was a stupid question; they’d been friends longer than she was alive, but how? How could she have been friends with wesen? Maybe she didn’t know her grandmother.

“Your grandmother was the kindest, most noble person we’d ever known. She…Look, let’s go back to the house and talk. There’s a lot to go over.”

Sloane took a couple of deep breaths before nodding. “Fine. Grab him and get to the house.” She turned without waiting for an answer, walking stiffly back through the woods. She felt like there was a coil of rubber bands inside her that were tight enough they were about to snap.

She wasn’t surprised when she Nick came through the trees. “There you are! Did you find them?”

“They’re coming. Help her with the would-be burglar,” she snapped, brushing past him. Nick blinked at the curt tone and looked back up where she’d come from. He hesitated but headed to the clearing, where Mim was looking over a teenager in black. She looked up hopefully when his steps crunched up to her in the snow and then deflated.

“Oh…hey.”

“Hey,” he said back. “He’s out?”

“Yeah, I…hit him kind of hard. Can you, uh…help me with him? I’m not as young as I once was,” she sighed, looking suddenly haggard.

Nick nodded and knelt down to maneuver the teen into a fireman carry, walking back towards the house.

Sloane meanwhile found her way back easily enough. She paused a bit at the edge of the woods, looking towards the house and feeling like she wanted to run. It was a few moments, when she heard Nick and Mim in the distance behind her, that she stomped up the steps and back inside, slamming the door open and startling Jean where she was pacing in the living room.

“Sloane, did you find Myriam?” Jean asked.

Sloane didn’t answer, heading for the kitchen. Nick came in and laid the teenager down on the floor inside. Mim was hanging back, hesitating to enter and he walked in. He watched confusion as she opened the fridge and pulled out one of the beers he’d gotten. Sloane didn’t normally drink much, but she opened it up and took a long swig. “Uh, you okay there, Sloane?”

She held up a hand, continuing to drink. Jean frowned worriedly. “Sloane? Hon?”

Sloane slammed the can on the counter and looked at Jean with a betrayed look. “So…what are you?”

Jean was confused for a moment before understanding dawned on her. “…You know?”

“Know what?” Nick asked, lost.

“Myriam and Jean are wesen,” she bit out.

Nick’s eyebrows rose and he looked to Jean. Jean looked at him as well, just as surprised. “You know about…?”

Sloane crunched the can under her grip. “He’s a Grimm as well. But apparently, he has more in common with my grandmother than I do because she had a bunch of wesen for friends!”

Jean looked at her with a pained expression. “Sloane, we wanted to tell you, really…”

“When? Because I’ve been a Grimm for almost twenty years now, I’ve been coming back here for ten—I’ve known you my whole life, and my whole life I thought you were human! Thought that you didn’t know anything about all this! I thought I was protecting you from it all but you knew the whole damn time?”

Jean shrunk down a little guiltily at that. “We thought we were protecting you too…” They all paused as Myriam made her way inside. “You woged and hurt him, didn’t you?” Jean accused. “I told you not to get so worked up or you’d woge!”

Mim huffed, looking guilty but annoyed, and stepped over the unconscious burglar on the floor. “Yes, okay! It happened! Give me some credit for not woging earlier around her!”

Sloane took another beer out but this time pressed the cold metal against her forehead like a cold compress to ward off a headache.

“So, what are you?” Nick asked, more curious than anything.

“Oh, you know about all this?” Myriam asked, torn between annoyance and surprise from the sound of her voice.

“He’s a Grimm too,” Jean sighed.

Myriam grimaced. “Shit…”

“I’m not interested in fighting you though,” Nick said quickly. “I’m more of a case by case kind of Grimm, dealing with them as they come to me in as a detective.”

Mim relaxed slightly but still seemed on guard. “Jägerbar.”

“And you?” Sloane said, looking at Jean again.

Jean hesitated before woging. Her teeth got longer, her hair wilder, her nose wider and more feline and her eyes sharper and cat-like. “Lowen…”

Sloane looked shocked again, almost dropping the beer. “You? A Lowen?”

Jean changed back. “I know, it doesn’t seem to fit with how I am. But this is who I am, Sloane. I had a wild past, but that wasn’t what I wanted out of life. Rebekah brought me here, gave me a new lease on life. Introduced me to Mim.” She took Mim’s hand. “Who had been in the same boat once and helped me make that new life.”

Sloane was quiet again. “I don’t understand though, how…why would my grandmother…?”

“She was more like your friend here, if what you two say is true,” Jean said. Sloane shot him a look and Nick tried to give her a disarming smile so she wouldn’t round on him. “She lost her parents young, early in the Second World War, and developed her own way of doing things…she still fought and killed wesen, but she wasn’t above making peace with them and being friends with them. She killed my older brother, but he was horrible,” Jean said bitterly. “I hated him, and what he’d make me do to help him. Drugs, fights, killing... Then he even got some of my friends into his messed up life…including my first girlfriend. Used her as bait for some rival gang members. I couldn’t save her. He was too strong for me to do anything on my own and had everyone else in the family doing whatever they could to stay on his good side. When Rebekah came to try and break up his operation, I helped her, but as a result my family would’ve torn me apart. Rebekah saved me and brought me back. I wasn’t expecting it, I figured I’d die by her hand or another’s, but she brought me back here and she and Charles—your grandfather—patched me up. Then I went to live with Mim and…here’s where I stayed.”

Sloane was calmer, but still tense. “…What about you?” she asked, looking at Mim.

“I was orphaned young because of a Grimm,” she said. “Ended up with a family who didn’t know about wesen, didn’t know how to deal with me. Grew rebellious and angry and ran away at sixteen. Lived the hard life. I tried to kill your grandmother when we first met…”

Sloane balked. “But…you’re her best friend!”

“Yeah. She beat me but didn’t kill me. I followed her back here, intending to kill her, but she just kept beating me. Eventually we just got to talking and…I don’t know. Over time it wasn’t black and white anymore, it was this shade of gray where I couldn’t blame her anymore for something she wasn’t even a part of, and she just always gave me this chance to be friends. I finally took her up on it and she got me back in school. Paid for it all, I became an engineer in record time and got enough money to pay her back and then buy up the rest of the land around the hills here. We were friends ever since…Your mother knows us too, but she leaves us alone now. Once she became a “real” Grimm, we were only tolerated.”

Sloane was still reeling it looked like, though she’d left the beer can alone now. She was staring at the two of them, or more like through them, as she tried to absorb everything.

“Sloane? Honey?” Jean said, easing towards her. Sloane moved back, shaking her head and Jean sadly eased away.

Nick frowned but before he could say anything, they finally heard the police outside. They’d taken their time he thought, but maybe a moment to cool down was needed. Grover walked up and knocked on the door and Sloane moved past the older women to open it.

 “So…mind filling me in on what’s going on?” He said. He yawned a little, looking put out. “I was finally asleep when I get a call about trouble out here.”

“Attempted robbery,” Sloane said.

“Robbery? Again?” He eyed Mim and Jean and Mim bristled a little.

“Well, we got the culprit this time, no thanks to you. This little shit tried to rob them,” Mim said, toeing at the burglar. “Sloane and I went after him and we managed to catch him.”

He leaned down to take a look and froze when he recognized him. Nick thought he saw a flash of fear in his face before he looked more resigned. “Jasper Hill…Great. Just great, this is going to be a pain…”

“You know him?” Nick asked.

“I know his mother…”

“I do too. I met with her earlier when I turned down her proposal to buy my land, and he was there,” Sloane said.

Grover sighed and looked at Mim. “But that was a stupid thing to do, Ms. Garcia, going after him. What if he’d been armed?”

“He was. He brought that crowbar,” Nick said, pointing to it on the ground. “Tried to brain Sloane when she came downstairs. We disarmed him before he ran.”

Grover snorted and gestured to his deputy, who went over to pick it up with a gloved hand. “Well, I’ll run him in then.” He leaned down and gently tapped his cheek. “Hey son, wake up. Jesus, what’d you do to him, Garcia?”

“I judo threw him and he conked out,” she lied. “Not my fault he can’t take a hit.”

The burglar groaned and started coming too. “That’s it, wake up, Jasper,” Grover said. “I don’t wanna carry you. C’mon, we’ll have to contact your parents.” He got him up and walking a little unsteadily with the deputy back out to the car. “Y’all mind making statements in the morning? It’s cold as hell outside and I’ll have to deal with this kid’s parents first and foremost. Pressing charges?”

“Yes,” Sloane said. “But I agree, let’s do this tomorrow. Hold him tonight; I’ll be over first thing tomorrow morning.”

Grover nodded and led the kid towards the door, the deputy following. Once they were gone, it was quiet in the room.

“Sloane…” Jean started.

“I think I need some sleep before I deal with this anymore,” Sloane said, rubbing her temple. “Head home.”

“Sloane,” Mim started, sounding more resistant to being dismissed.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” she snapped. “Either of you.” She turned and headed upstairs before they could react. Jean looked down sadly and Mim put an arm around her. Nick felt sympathetic, standing to go to them.

“She’s just…it’s a shock,” he said lamely. “She doesn’t do well with surprises in day to day life I’ve noticed. On the job she can take it, but…”

“We know…” Mim sighed. “It’s part of why we hesitated telling her. We always knew she was out being a Grimm, not a flight attendant. And we know how Deidre raised her. I figured you were probably one too or a librarian or something and this “detective” thing was a cover.”

He shook his head. “It’s not. I really am a detective in Portland and Sloane is one of my partners. Thanks mostly to my wesen boss pulling some strings…”

“So she’s working with wesen?” Jean asked, sounding hopeful.

“Yeah, but…it’s a process getting her to trust anyone. But she has made wesen friends. Our friend Rosalee is a Fuchsbau and probably one of her best friends.”

Jean smiled. “I’m glad. Rebekah would be too. I just…I just hope she realizes we love her like family and we didn’t want to lie…”

“She will,” Mim said, rubbing over her partner’s back and kissing her temple. “We just need to let her process. Let’s go home, give her some space.”

Jean nodded and looked at Nick. “Thank you for being so understanding…Rebekah always hoped for more Grimms like her in the world.”

Nick blushed a bit but smiled. “It’s not always easy but…thanks.”

They nodded and headed out the door to their car. Nick headed upstairs. He looked at the closed door to the master bedroom and thought about checking on Sloane, but decided that Jean and Mim were probably right to let her have some time on her own.

\------------------------

“You really made trouble for us tonight, kid,” Grover said, glaring at Jasper in his rearview mirror. The kid had his hands handcuffed and hanging between his legs.

“Shut up, you’re not part of “us”,” Jasper said.

“True, but then, were you out here on your mother’s orders or did you do this on your own?”

Jasper didn’t answer and Grover sighed as he drove to the sheriff’s office. “Put him in cell 1,” he told the deputy.

“Wait, are you serious?” Jasper said, looking shocked he was actually being locked up.

“As a heart attack. You stay there while I call your mother and we’ll see what she has to say about your nighttime activities.”

Jasper glared and violently shrugged off the deputy’s hand as they walked in back. Grover sat down and dialed the number he already knew. It rang for a couple of seconds before a tired woman’s voice came over the line. “Sherriff. I trust this is important?”

“Yeah. I have your son Jasper in a cell down here.”

“…Why?”

It was scary how cool the voice was despite the news. “He was caught breaking into a house. The house in the woods owned by Sloane Larson.”

It was quiet a moment. “Was anyone hurt?”

“No one at the house far as I know, but your son has bump on the head. However, he also had a crow bar with him that he reportedly tried to use as a weapon. This is all grounds for a felony, Mrs. Hill. Also, I don’t think Miss Larson is going to warm up to you or your son now.” Mrs. Hill sighed and it was quiet for a beat before Grover cleared his throat. “Do you, um, want to come see him now?”

“No,” she said, her voice now icy cold. “Leave him there for the rest of the night. See if that helps him learn not to go off on his own. I’ll be there in the morning.”

“Okay, good…So will Miss Larson. She intends to press charges.”

“I’ll deal with her when I see her,” she bit out.

“Right, yes. Sounds good…I’ll, just, uh, let you rest up then.”

“Goodnight Sherriff.” She hanged up and Grover put his phone back on the receiver.

“That woman’s colder than a snowman’s ass…”

\--------------------------

When Nick woke up in the morning, there were fresh bandages and a jar of salve on his night stand, along with a note.

_You don’t have to wash the burn. Just apply a little more salve and re-bandage. Do it again tonight before bed._

_-Sloane_

Straight and to the point, as he’d expect. He sat up and unwound the gauze bandages Sloane had put on, noting that indeed the wound looked unexpectedly better. He reapplied the salve—which still stung a bit—and managed to dress it himself. He then got dressed and moved to head out of his room and downstairs. He was surprised when he saw the attic door was down in the hallway just before the master bedroom door, the folding stairs leading up extended.  He hesitated before climbing up.

Sloane was sitting on the dusty floor of the attic, looking through a book in her lap with a quilted throw over her shoulders. A flashlight lantern was next to her, still on despite the daylight filtering in through the window with dancing specks of dust. It didn’t look like she’d slept much, her eyes droopy and slow blinking now and then while she continued reading. She wasn’t smiling or really frowning, she looked more like she was trying to understand something. “…Sloane?”

She jumped a bit but then looked at him. “Nick? What’re you doing up?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

“It’s 8 in the morning, Sloane…”

“It is?” She sounded somewhat surprised, looking over at the window as though she hadn’t noticed the sun that had risen at least an hour ago.

“Have you been up here all night?” He climbed the rest of the way up and walked over to her.

“Mmm…yeah. Couldn’t sleep so…I dunno. I thought there would be something up here to help me understand just what my grandmother was thinking…The basement is all Grimm stuff, things for hunting and fighting. This…is my grandmother’s stuff. The things she kept because of sentimentality and…other things I was told I shouldn’t have to be a good Grimm …”

Nick frowned. “…Did you find anything?”

“Lots of pictures, of my grandfather and her and of my mother as a kid—and that was trippy as hell—and…then this.” She gestured at the book. “Journals…One from when she was younger, couple from during WWII, and this one, from when she came over to America from Europe with my grandfather after the war. This is the one I’ve been reading mostly…”

“And does that seem to shed some light on things?” he asked, honestly curious but hopeful as well.

“Yeah…I…never really knew much about Oma’s past. I always assumed she was like Deidre or the other Grimms I’ve met besides you. A mighty hunter. But…she was more like you. And I don’t mean that in…in a bad way, really, I just…I guess I thought she’d be like Kelly, or Marie.”

“…Well, um…not to shock you more but, Aunt Marie was engaged to a Steinadler once,” he said slowly. “I met him, his name is Farley Colt. But she left him when my parents…or at least when my parents _apparently_ died to raise me. She wanted to keep me out of the Grimm life as long as possible.”

Sloane looked up at him, her tired eyes wide, and he worried he’d sent her over the edge for a tense moment. Then she gave a growling sigh, rubbing over her face. “No, you know what…might as well accept that no one is what I thought they were. I’ve been feeling it for a while.” She thunked back against the trunk behind her, lolling her head to rest on it. “Oma was still very talented as a Grimm. I found out so much I never knew, at least not the details. She lost her parents when she was sixteen at the very start of World War II. They were both Grimms but also Ally Spies. Hitler was actually a Hundjager—”

“I know. There’s some films in the trailer that are not home movies…” Nick interrupted, remember the film of the dictator woging.

“Oh…” she said, actually surprised. “That’s probably worth something…Well, part of his cleansing was to try and root out Grimms. He was genuinely anti-Semitic and into eugenics and all that, but a lot of Grimms in Europe at the time were from Jewish families. I think he knew that somehow and that was part of why he was hunting them. Ironic too how anti-Semitic some of those original Grimm tales could be…” she added under her breath a little bitterly.

“Wow…So your great-grandparents were spies?” he asked, getting back on topic and sitting next to her.

“Yeah. Even before the war. They knew what was happening, they saw the signs. But something happened—she found out later they’d been betrayed and fell into a trap trying to stem the rise of the fascists. Oma was sixteen at the time, didn’t know much about being a Grimm because they’d been busy after she inherited her abilities at 13. So she taught herself using the family collection…but her own discretion. Ended up recruited by a small cell of ally and resistance fighters made up of Keirsheite and a few wesen that she also befriended. Kept in touch with them too, I found letters…That group was where she met my grandfather, Charles Larson.” She smiled a little tiredly. “An American pilot that, and I quote, “Had a nerve of steel but a heart made of butter”.”

Nick snorted. “Does that mean she liked him?”

“I think so…Apparently one of Grandpa’s crew and his best friend was a Scharfblicke, a kind of bird-like wesen with great eyesight. He witnessed him woge and instead of both of them freaking out, they managed to come to an understanding and he brought Grandpa into this group. They called themselves Aegis, after the mythical shield from Greek mythology.” She looked around and then picked up another journal as she spoke, flipping through the pages and then showing a sketch of an old shield.

“Sounds pretty cool…” he said. He couldn’t deny thinking about Grimm spies in WWII was more than a little intriguing.

“Yeah…In here,” she held up the book she was reading, from after the war, “she talks about Jean and Mim but…there were others too. She always laments when she couldn’t just talk something out with a wesen and had to resort to killing them…” Sloane sighed and pulled her hair back, looking up at the ceiling. “All I can think now is…what she’d think of me.”

Nick frowned sympathetically and reached up to put an arm around her. She didn’t tense this time and he wasn’t sure if it was because she was so down or tired. “Sloane…she loved you. I saw it in those photos, she was so proud of you.”

“But that’s not me anymore…I’m not a little girl in a tutu anymore. I’m a hunter. A killer. I’m not what she wanted me to be…” she finished, and she sounded so lost that Nick felt his heart go out to her.

“I honestly don’t think that would change that she would still love you,” he said gently. “Maybe she would’ve raised you to be a different Grimm than you have been, but I don’t think she’d love you less.”

“She’d be disappointed in a lot of what I’ve done…” she pressed.

“Maybe. Or she…might hope you’d do better.”

Sloane looked at him with a look that said she couldn’t decide what she was feeling. “…I should probably head downtown. That little punk from last night and his mom will be waiting.”

Nick nodded, accepting the change in topic. “You want me to come?”

“…Yeah. If they’re both Enxame Vermelho, then there are probably a lot of others in the town. I might need some back up.”

Nick smiled a little, liking the sign of trust. They put the journals back in the box and headed downstairs to get ready. Nick drove into town and to the police station, parking beside a rather expensive looking car in the parking lot. “Guess mom got here early…”

“Yeah. I have a feeling she might be the queen around here.”

“So she’s the one we need to watch out for?”

“We need to watch out for all of them. But if things get dicey, go for her first. Or…”

“Or…?”

“…I’m wondering what my grandmother would do.”

Nick was about to ask more but she was already out the door. They headed inside and the secretary, looking nervous, quickly led her into the small interrogation room, one of only two in the precinct. Grover was already there, sitting across from Mrs. Hill and Jasper. Jasper already looked contrite, likely having gotten chewed out by his mother already.

“Miss Larson, welcome. And Mister…Burka?” Grover said.

“Burkhardt,” Nick said, giving a tight smile. They sat down in the two empty chairs on the same side as Mrs. Hill and Jasper, but with a large gap between them. “Just here for moral support and since I was there last night.”

“Understandable,” Grover nodded.

“I am truly very sorry for this,” Mrs. Hill said. “I think my son misunderstood the situation and thought he was helping me, trying to scare you…”

“I have a feeling he might’ve done something similar last month to Jean Oberto and Myriam Garcia’s work shed,” Sloane said evenly. She looked at Grover, who shifted uncomfortably.

“Ah, yes…guess I hadn’t made the connection…Jasper, you know anything about that?”

“N-no…I mean I heard about it…” he said, not looking at anyone.

“I wouldn’t recommend lying right now, kid,” Sloane glared. He shrank back a little but glared back.

“I realize you intend to press charges and I agree Jasper needs to face consequences for his actions, but I was hoping we could come to an agreement. Rather than a felony, perhaps we could agree on community service or something to that effect?”

“I’m not sure that’s enough considering he tried to attack Nick and me.”

“He was just startled-”

“He brought a crowbar. Now I could maybe think that was to smash up the house with, but then he tried to smash me with it. So I’m not feeling terribly forgiving. There’s also the matter of the _burn_ to Nick’s arm.”

Nick glanced at Sloane, surprised a moment she was bringing that up, then realizing she was letting them know they were well aware who and what they were dealing with. Mrs. Hill’s expression didn’t betray anything though. “Burned? How would that happen?”

“I think you’re well aware how.”

Grover was looking tense and so was Jasper. “Mom…I tried to tell you, the guy said I was wesen. They know…”

“Jasper,” she said warningly.

“Enxame Vermelho,” Sloane said. It sounded like a magic spell, and it did have an effect this time. Mrs. Hill looked at her and then woged, as did Jasper. While Jasper was a fiery red color, with his large eyes and pincers, Mrs. Hill was the color of blood, with a rigid plate of carapace around her brows, almost like a crown. Nick kept his cool despite a momentary lurch in his heart and stomach. Sloane he was sure was made out of ice at this point as she just stared her down. “And there’s the queen.”

“Grimm!” she breathed, woging back and standing, putting herself in front of Jasper. “Both of you are Grimm!”

The sheriff’s eyes widened and he too woged into his wesen form. Sloane glanced to him and arched an eyebrow. “A Grun Hochspringer? Didn’t think you two would work together.”

“You’re a Grimm? I-but-you’re family has lived here for generations!”

“It’s from my grandmother’s side of the family. In any case, I believe now is the time to discuss what I expect to happen going forward if we don’t want any more trouble.”

“D-discuss?” Mrs. Hill asked, confused.

“You’re a new queen I’m guessing, trying to build a colony here for…what reason?”

“…I like the area.”

“Well, good for you,” Sloane said snidely. “But you aren’t getting the hills. That’s my land, and the land of Myriam Garcia’s. And if _anyone_ ,” she narrowed her gaze on Jasper, who flinched back, his teenage bravado now forgotten, “messes with Myriam or Jean again in any way shape or form, they will answer to me.”

Nick smiled a little, glad that Sloane was still protective of the two women.

“I…I may be setting up a new colony, but we still out number you,” Mrs. Hill said.

“True. But then, you don’t know how many other Grimm’s I know. I have what we call a “Dead Letter” set up. If I don’t regularly check in to a certain account, after a couple of weeks this letter goes out to all my contacts—most of whom are Grimm. On a Dead Letter is a list of investigations, jobs, other contacts, etc. that may be unfinished business. I just added “Wildred, California-Colony of Enxame Vermelho. _Murderous._ ” She growled the last word and Mrs. Hill swallowed. “I know what happened to Elizabeth Fielding. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t mind having a chat with the one responsible for that. I assume it wasn’t your son.”

“N-No!” Jasper said. “It was Midgley! I followed them and saw him do it!”

“Jasper!” Mrs. Hill gasped.

“What? I heard you, I knew what you were ordering him to do! And you’re upset at me for breaking into their houses?!”

Mrs. Hill flinched and looked back at Sloane. “I…I didn’t want her dead. I wanted her to keep her mouth shut. He took it too far—”

“Was Mr. Morrison a step too far too?” she asked, glaring.

“Th…that was an accident…” she said, looking away.

“…I almost believe you. Regardless, that’s at least two deaths on your colony’s record, so my message is accurate enough.”

Mrs. Hill breathed deeply. “And…what will they do if they see this Dead Letter?”

“Converge on this town and purge it of your presence by finding and executing every last one of you,” Sloane said matter-of-factly. “It might take time perhaps, but it will get done. A few workplace accidents, some terrible car wrecks, disappearances…Wildred will become a ghost town if necessary. I’d do it myself, but I have other things to do and I rather not spend more of my life than necessary continuing to come down here for _pest control_. Nick feels the same I’m sure.”

Nick was surprised he was included but managed to look neutral and nod his head. “Yeah. The acid thing is off putting, but there’s ways around it after all. If Sloane wants my help, she has it.”

“…And where does that leave us if we want to avoid all that?” Mrs. Hill asked slowly.

“Two options. One: You stay.”

“We…what?”

“You stay. Provided you remain peaceful. No more shady deals, no more deaths, no more driving the locals out. No big chalet on the hill. Learn to love the small town feel and deal with it. Live here with knowledge that I will be constantly on the watch for news about this town and if anyone else dies mysteriously or “has an accident”, I’ll be back with more friends of my own.”

Mrs. Hill breathed in deeply. “And the second option?”

“Leave. Cut ties with all the work you’ve put in here.”

“That might tank the local economy-” Grover started.

“I will deal with you and your hand in this in a moment, Sherriff,” Sloane said darkly. He quickly shut up. Sloane looked back at Mrs. Hill. “As I was saying. You leave. You find somewhere else to set up. But I’d be more…diplomatic and discreet. Because if people start dying, I or someone else in the area might get curious what’s going on.”

Mrs. Hill stared at her. “You’d let us go?”

“On conditions. As I said, I don’t want to hassle myself hunting you all down. It’s been a rough week personally and I could use the opportunity to vent my frustrations for sure, but I’d just rather not. And I-that is, we really are a detectives in another city, so don’t go trying to make us disappear or pin something on us because I promise you, that will only end very badly for all involved. Kill us, you’ll be hunted down again within a month I promise you, by Grimm or by Federal Investigators. Stay and cause further havoc, I’ll take you down myself and enjoy doing it.”

“Then why not try it now?” She asked.

Sloane paused, looking thoughtful before looking back up at her. “I’m trying…a slightly new approach to things. Would you prefer I just do it?”

“No, no…” Mrs. Hill breathed in deeply, looking at Sloane as if trying to see a crack in her expression. Sloane was like a statue though, staring her down calmly. “…I will need to think on it.”

“That’s fine. We’ll be here a few more days. I’d like to hear your answer by Friday though.”

“Very well.”

“And have a talk with your son about the criminal lifestyle. Because I also expect law enforcement around here to do its job more thoroughly. And not taking bribes. You did take them, didn’t you?” She turned and glared at Grover. He swallowed but didn’t argue, apparently knowing that might endanger the promise of mercy they were getting. Sloane stood. “Maybe you should consider retirement after all if you don’t even want to bother doing your job properly.” She looked them over again before nodding to herself. “I think we’re done here. I won’t press charges so long as you don’t give me a reason to come after any of you again.”

“I…understand,” Mrs. Hill said.

“I hope you do because I’ll be honest, leaving here with all of you intact is screaming against everything I’ve been taught and my instincts,” Sloane said. “Do not make me regret it.”  She nodded to Nick and they both headed out the door without being stopped. Sloane took a deep breath outside and Nick could tell she was truthful about leaving without a fight being hard. He reached up and put a hand on her shoulder.

“You did good,” he said honestly.

“Thanks…feels wrong still but…”

“I think your grandmother would approve if she’s the way we’ve heard. If nothing else…I’m proud of you.”

Sloane huffed but a small smile came to her lips. “That’s…something, I suppose.”

He smiled back then frowned. “Does that “Dead Letter” thing exist though?”

“Yeah, though it’s not as official as it sounds. It’s through the library. And I uh…haven’t actually added them yet though,” she said, tapping her lips with her finger in a “shhh” motion. “I’ll message Gallin when we get back.”

Nick smiled and gently nudged her. “C’mon. I’ll treat us to breakfast somewhere and we can get back to work.”

Nodding, they headed back to his car and drove into town.

\---------------

Jean was looking out the window of their house, into the darkened woods, towards where Rebekah’s house stood beyond the trees. She couldn’t see it, but she could picture it there as if she were just at the end of the driveway. She hadn’t turned on the light, didn’t really need to when she could see fine in the dark still. Her eyes had the slight green shine to them other predators had in the night.

“Jean, you can’t keep staring like that…” Mim sighed, walking in from getting ready for bed. She was in her flannel pajamas for the cold, a pair of slippers on her feet.

“It’s been two days,” Jean sighed. “She hasn’t said anything…Hasn’t called…”

“She’ll call us when she’s ready,” Mim said, coming up to put an arm around her side.

“And if she doesn’t?” Jean said, tearing up.

“She will. She’s just…she needs time,” Mim sighed. “Deirdre did a number on her…she needs to come to terms with everything.” Jean sighed deeply but nodded. “C’mon, let’s get to bed.” She turned to lead her back towards there room.

The paused when the heard something creak on the front porch, both looking towards the windows. They didn’t see anything moving outside but Mim’s hand tightened on Jean’s arm. “The wind? Or snow?”

“Yeah…maybe…” Mim said, though she didn’t sound convinced. Then they heard a crash from the side of the house, like a window breaking in. They could hear footsteps as well piling in as well. “Get to the bedroom!”

“Mim-”

“Go!”

There was another crash and the door at the end of the hall flew open as Jean was running towards it, the sizzling drops of acid falling onto the hardwood floor.

\-----------------

Sloane and Nick had two days of uninterrupted work after that. They weren’t interrupted by any wesen activity at all. Nick was sad to say though that Mim and Jean were on that list. Sloane didn’t talk about it, or about much of anything, and Nick hesitated to bring it up. But when they got all the boxes loaded into the car he paused after shutting the back. “Y’know…it’s already late in the afternoon. Almost evening. We could leave in the morning, get back at a better hour.”

Sloane sighed a bit, looking up at the sky slowly tinting orange in the late daylight hours. “Yeah…probably not a bad idea I suppose, since we gotta get the house ready anyway.”

“…You should probably talk to Mim and Jean too.” Sloane looked at him with an unreadable expression. “I know…finding out exactly who they are was shocking. But they’re still the same people you’ve always known.”

“…I had a thought last night, that I could take everything I needed from the house and never come back. Get a trailer like Marie’s, never store anything here again. Never have to see this town again.”

“…Or Mim and Jean,” Nick finished, feeling worried. Sloane didn’t say anything to that. “Is that what you want?”

“…What I want hasn’t been a priority since I was a child…” she said quietly. “Deidre raised me on my duty as a Grimm. The greater good, as she always put it one way or another.”

Nick frowned again. “What you want does matter, Sloane. Maybe it won’t always work out that way but…you shouldn’t feel like it doesn’t matter.”

Sloane was quiet again for a while before turning. “Let’s start cleaning up the house.”

Nick sighed, getting used to her changing the subject when she didn’t want to talk anymore, but followed.

That night, after an easy dinner of microwaved pizza, they were about to head up to bed when rapid knocking at the door made them pause. “Sloane! Sloane, help, it’s Mim! Mim needs help!” Jean’s frantic voice was crying.

Sloane froze just a moment before rushing to the door. “Jean? What—” She gasped as Jean stumbled through the door. The smell of something spicy and blistered skin reached her nose and she tightened her grip. “Aunt Jean!”

Jean tried to straighten and Nick could see her leg was badly burned. Running on it must’ve been excruciating. “They got the drop on us,” Jean panted. “One of them spat on my leg, the bastard…”

Sloane didn’t need to ask what she meant. “Mim?”

“She led them off through the woods to give me a chance to run here. I told her it made more sense she go, but you know her…”

Sloane glanced out the door as if hoping Mim would be there, but there was no sign of anyone else yet. “Nick…Can you treat Jean for me?”

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Nick said.

“Follow me after, but help Jean up to the bathroom first, please.”

The desperation in her voice (and the fact she said ‘please’ for once) must’ve gotten to him because he quickly pulled Jean’s arm around his shoulders and headed upstairs.  Sloane grabbed her knife and then quickly grabbed a crossbow and several bolts in a side quiver from her car. She strapped the quiver to her thigh and took off into the woods.

Nick meanwhile helped Jean to the bathroom, cutting off the bottom of her jeans carefully with a pair of scissors and setting her up to run water over it for the next few minutes. “That looks bad…”

“It probably is,” Jean gritted out. “But I’ll live. I’m out of the fight, but I’ll live.” She looked up at Nick with an earnest expression. “I know Sloane can take care of herself, and Mim too…but every bit of help is a blessing. Go make sure my girls come back, please.”

Nick nodded and turned, grabbing his gun from his room and pulling the holster on before rushing outside. He paused for just a moment to grab a sword from his car and ran into the woods. He wished he had more than just his handgun and the sword, but he’d have to make due.

Sloane raced towards Mim and Jean’s house through the woods. Before she could drive she’d walk there in twenty minutes. Running, she could make it in ten to fifteen. But she had her senses open as well, trying to figure out where they could be. She heard a twig snap and paused, turning in that direction. A man in a flannel shirt was there, staring at her.

“You the Grimm?” he said gruffly.

“No, just doing a little light crossbow hunting,” she said tersely.

The man glared and then woged, his pincers spreading as he prepared to spit at her. Sloane moved quickly around a tree, the glob of acid hitting the wood and starting to eat away at it quickly. Cocking the crossbow, she spun around the tree, dodging another shot of acid with a roll over the hard, frozen ground and raised the weapon up in one fluid movement. She fired her cross bow and struck him right in his neck. He woged back, his hands going up to the wound, and stumbled back before falling. He was still dribbling acid that was eating away at the arrow, smoking from his neck. She didn’t bother to check if he was dead, running again. Another snap behind her had her turning with her already loaded crossbow raised, only to see Nick rushing towards her. He didn’t say anything, just nodded to her as they both moved again with Sloane in the lead.

Nick stopped her at one point, his ears having been open and hearing the sound of voices off to the side of them. He led her that way and they came upon Mim, up in a tree, higher than Nick expected someone her age to climb. Then again there were several men on the ground around her. Two were woged and spitting acid at the base of the tree’s thick trunk, intending to fell it with Mim at the top apparently. Midgely was among them. “Faster! I want that bitch down on the ground and then I want you to melt her down to her bones!”

Before Nick could say anything, not that he really planned on stopping her, Sloane fired a shot. She hit one of the woged men in his head with the arrow. The others all woged and turned, pincers clicking.

“So this is what I get for being nice,” Sloane growled. “Your queen decided for the option I warned her not to do? Keep on killing?”

Midgely woged back and glared. “My “queen” has ousted me from the colony thanks to you!”

Sloane arched her brow. “Oh?”

“Yes! She told me about your little ultimatum and decided she didn’t need an enforcer anymore! She let some of my men go too. We decided to put the pressure on you and these two old biddies ourselves. I’ll buy the land from the banks and develop this whole damn area for a factory of some kind, maybe a landfill, and ruin her lovely view!”

“Seriously? Why not just kill her?”

“Oh, like you should have? No. Her mother is still a powerful queen, her colony is over five hundred strong. Killing her or her little bastard would have them breathing down my neck the rest of my life. But I’m going to make her miserable one way or another. I helped make her what she is, make that company what it is, even before she broke off from her mother to start her own colony, and two Grimm’s have her quivering like coward?”

“She’s right to “quiver”,” Nick sneered. “You’ve never faced a Grimm before, have you?”

“What does that matter? You can die just like anyone else!” The men all rushed for them at once and Sloane jumped away, reloading the crossbow extra quick and firing at one. Nick brought the sword up to block the big one that came for him. The dripping acid actually sizzled on the blade, but he quickly managed to bring his foot up and kick him away. He backed up to put some space between them while his opponent kept advancing. Nick moved to swipe at him with the sword, but it hit the tree when he ducked away and actually snapped where the acid ate away at it. Cursing, he backed away more, gripping the hilt and trying to aim with his gun one handed. The ant wesen hissed through dripping acid and spit at him, making him stumble away. He lunged then and grabbed Nick’s hand, opening his mouth wide to fire again.

Nick felt the world slow down then. That cold, pale feeling came over him and he hardened his muscles like stone so that he couldn’t wrench his arm. With a growl, he brought the broken blade up into his stomach. The Wesen shuddered and de-woged before collapsing. Nick stared down at him as his thoughts cleared and he gasped, dropping the sword. For a second he remembered that he’d killed a man like this before in the biker bar—but then he hissed and looked at his arm. More smoking holes were in his sleeve. Despite the biting cold he quickly pulled it off and tossed it aside. That was right. It was self-defense; it was them or him and Sloane.

_Sloane_. He turned and saw her dancing away from two of them. She then whirled and brought her knife into one neck, then turned and threw the knife in a fluid, almost elegant motion into the other’s chest. Another was coming up on her and Nick rushed him and slammed into him, making him skid across the snow.  He was back on his feet in an instant and Sloane had her knife back and going back to back to be sure no one snuck up on them. It was a whirl of motion as they took out the last two, Nick stunning them without a weapon with a few well-placed punches and Sloane taking them out with the blade

Finally, only Midgley was left, the others wounded or dead at the Grimms’ feet. He was backing up slowly, eyes wide. “Typical man in a suit,” Sloane growled. “Stand by while someone else does the physical labor?”

“Stay back…” he said, obviously afraid now but trying not to show it.

“Or what?” She stalked forward. “I was nice to your queen. But you threatened my friends directly, so I’m not feeling like extending you the same courtesy. Anything you have to change my mind?”

Midgley swallowed before woging again, gearing up for a spit of acid. Sloane moved quickly holding her arm up to take the hit and then bringing her hand with the knife around and striking him right in the heart. Midgley changed back with a gasp and Sloane violently kicked him off her blade so he’d fall back. She looked down at him as he quickly bled out and then back up at Nick as she removed her jacket and dropped it before it could burn her skin. She stared down at him. “I should’ve just started hunting them when I found out…”

Nick winced but walked over. “Don’t go back to thinking that, Sloane. You did the right thing, Midgley’s choices were his own and he paid for them. There’s nothing wrong with the diplomatic approach.”

“Maybe I’m not cut out for the diplomatic role…” she said.

“No, he was an asshole,” Nick said more curtly. “I’m not gonna fault you for this round, he had it coming. But that’s no excuse to write off the rest of them. I’m still proud of you for trying to talk things out before anyone else got hurt, and the fact that we still had to hurt people doesn’t negate that. I know your grandmother would say the same thing. Understand?” Sloane looked a little uncertain to believe that, but wasn’t angry anymore.

“Damn straight.” They looked up as Mim climbed down, a little frazzled looking, but in no immediate danger. “She’d be real proud of you.” Sloane hesitated a bit and Mim took a breath. “…Are you alright?”

Sloane nodded slowly. “Yeah…you?”

“I’ll live,” she said, looking a bit awkward.

“Good…I didn’t want to find someone new to watch the house.”

Mim looked up in surprise before smiling and walking over to give her a hug. Sloane hesitated a moment but then hugged her back, giving a long sigh. Nick smiled as well, glad for them.

When they got back to the house, Jean rushed over and hugged Mim hard. She then hugged Sloane and Sloane hugged her back a little easier. It was tense, emotional few moments before Sloane took out her phone. “I need to make a call.” She walked back outside, but didn’t get far before Jean threw a jacket over her shoulders. Sloane just smiled and then walked down the porch a small ways. Going to her call history, she hit a number and waited.

“…Miss Larson?” Mrs. Hill asked slowly.

“I’m afraid so. Apparently, your severance package leaves a lot to be desired. My friend’s Jean and Myriam were attacked by your Mr. Midgley and some of his friends, and then Nick and I were when we confronted them. I trust you didn’t put him up to it.”

“N-no, of course not!” she said quickly.

“Well…they’re all dead anyway.” She heard Mrs. Hill swallow. “Have you come to a decision?”

“I…I think it best we start over somewhere else.”

“I agree. Just be aware if anything suspicious goes down, there are more people like me in the world than you think.”

“Yes. Um, I…thought about contacting some of the former owners of the businesses we bought, see if they’re interested in buying back their old places…” she offered, hoping for a peace offering.

“Well, that’s nice of you. I’m sure you’ll give them great deals as well, won’t you?” Sloane said with a fake sweetness to her voice.

“Of course.”

“Good. This is my last warning. If it’s a mistake I let you go, one more toe out of line and I’ll fix that mistake. Understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Oh, and send someone to clean up the mess in the woods. I’ll let you know where.”

She ended the call and set her rough coordinates of where they’d left Midgley and the others’ bodies to go collect before heading back inside out of the cold night air.

\-------------------

“Do you really have to go so soon?” Jean asked. It was early in the morning, the sun barely up, and Jean and Mim had insisted they come over for breakfast before they hit the road. Both their cars, still loaded up, were outside ready to go after heaps of pancakes and bacon were eaten.

“We stayed an extra day already, Aunt Jean.” Indeed, they’d stayed the whole of the next day to talk and get the house back to its dormant state. It had been good, Sloane and her aunts talking about the past and what to do going forward. “We gotta go back to Portland. I actually need to put this stuff away you know,” Sloane said. “But…I’ll try not to be a stranger. And I’ll email you.”

“You better,” Mim said, pulling her into a hug. “Now that we can finally get a hold of you, we can finally set a wedding date! Been meaning to do that since it’s been legalized, but we want you there, girl!”

Sloane pulled back and smiled. “I honestly forget you two aren’t married most of the time anyway…”

They smiled and patted her on the back. Mim looked at Nick. “You two watch each other’s backs. You’re better off as a team I think.”

Nick smiled and looked at Sloane. “A good point I think.”

Sloane rolled her eyes but smiled. They got into their cars, Sloane watching two women who were the closest thing to family they could be waving in the rearview mirror as they headed out of town. They passed by the road up to her Grandmother’s house and though it couldn’t be seen through the trees she knew it was there. It still held the unhappiest of her memories inside, but she couldn’t push aside the happier ones anymore. She glanced to her passenger seat, where she had a box loaded with a few pictures she made copies of in town and her grandmother’s journals from the attic. It was time she decided to actually embrace her past more than using it to push her forward through the fights and hunts. That meant she had a lot of remembering to do, and a lot of catching up.

As they headed down Main Street, she was surprised to see a bunch of police cars outside the police station. Well, on its own not surprising, but they were apparently putting Sherriff Grover into one of the cars, in handcuffs.

The walkie talkie in her passenger seat clicked. “You see that?”

She grabbed it, driving slowly with one hand and watching the lights in her rearview mirror. “Yeah, wonder what that was about…”

“Well, someone might’ve tipped off the local paper—and some other law enforcement agencies—that the local Sherriff was accepting bribes from a development company to look the other way on illegal activity…” he said innocently.

Sloane couldn’t help the grin on her face, shaking her head. “You sly Grimm…”

“If we’re going to do a job, we’d better do it right and get all the bad influences out of here.”

She smiled a bit more, feeling that pretty fitting as they drove out of the town and back towards Oregon.

When she pulled up to her house though, she was surprised to see Monroe, Rosalee, Hank and Juliette outside. The waved as she and Nick drove up and she stepped out of the car. “Guys? What are you doing here?”

Juliette smiled at Nick as he walked up. “Nick texted us when you were an hour away and we headed over to help you unload.”

Sloane looked up at Nick who shrugged. “I figured more hands, less work?”

“…Fair enough,” she said, smiling a little. “Okay, well, I got books, I got weapons and I got tchotchkes.”

“Tchotchkes? I didn’t think you were the type,” Monroe said.

“I got a house, it’s time to decorate,” Sloane said she said matter-of-factly. She paused a moment and then turned to suddenly hug Rosalee.

“Wha-okay,” she said, hugging back. “Sloane?”

“Just…thanks for being my friend,” she said softly.

Rosalee glanced at Nick in confusion but he just smiled and shook his head. It wasn’t his place to say what happened.

They began working to get the boxes moved in, Sloane going through them again with them to show off some of the books, weapons, and then even a few pictures. They ordered in Chinese and talked about what happened in Wildred most of the evening. When they left, Sloane went to that box of mementos first and pulled out a framed photo of her grandmother with a two year old Sloane on her lap. She smiled sadly and put it on her desk. Her eyes strayed it the book of other “mementos” and newspaper clippings from past hunts and she felt something in her flinch but ignored it, moving to put the rest of her things away instead.

**Author's Note:**

> This one is quite long! But i'm really happy with it, and happy to introduce Mim and Jean. The fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper seemed a really good back drop for this and I think it worked really well.


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